#but it just made it worse. and it was maddening. it made him even more frustrated with life than he already is

[malkaviian]

i never talk about the effects the "breakup" with finnley had on chase so im going to do it now

#oc talk #he pretends it didnt affected him at all but it did. to this day he still misses him a lot but thats not something hes going to admit #maybe his attachment wasnt healthy but he was the only person (alongside dalila) that stayed by his side even when hes a piece of shit #and he isnt that much of a bad person not to be grateful for it; even when he wonders why he didnt go away sometimes. #he treated him way better than everyone else in the world but even then there were times his anger issues got the best of him #and lashed out; mostly without a real reason. and yet he stayed forgiving him every time and not taking it personally. #because he loved (platonically) him and he also did. but they had to basically fuck around and find out and it ruined it kdjsfnjsd #i mean; they still stayed as good friends while it happened and no romantic feelings were involved at all. to this day nothing is romantic #but then caspian had to appear and neither of them are of an open relationship type of guys so they couldnt stay as fwbs anymore #in fact when chase started to mention caspian as something more than a cute guy thats when finnley started to act jealous #because he never talked about someone else other than him like that. he hated it. and chase was also quite hurt with his obvious disgust #why isnt his best friend supporting him when he finally found someone else? isnt that what best friends are supposed to do? #but he tried to ignore the growing friction between two and even made finnley and caspian meet each other in hopes they would get along #but it just made it worse. and it was maddening. it made him even more frustrated with life than he already is #and could literally spend nearly the whole day smoking. fighting for minimal things with anyone was a must. he was way more easily provoked #and thats saying a lot. and then he started dating caspian and everything just. collapsed. finnley solely blames chase for the 'breakup' #and now chase solely blames finnley for being a capricious child who cant take a 'no' for an answer and not have everything go his way #even if he deep down knows finnley is not like that. they have been friends since they were 14 y/o they *know* how the other is #however as i said he still misses him a lot. he wishes his efforts to make his bf and him get along got the desired effect #thats why when they see each other chase just looks away or pretend hes unaffected; maybe a little bit bothered. but actually #he feels really uncomfortable. and tries to mask that with anger because he feels like he would do something he will regret otherwise #not in an aggressive way he would never lay a finger on him. or purposefully hurt his feelings (again) #but in a very depressive; pathetic; kinda guilt-tripping way of asking him to return. as we all knows hes not the best #when it comes to impulse control. mostly if hes drunk which is basically the only time they see each other during parties #donnarose isnt the biggest place there isnt a really big selection of places to have fun. #so they inevitably run into each other more often than they would like. they try to ignore the fact theyre still kinda connected #because caspian and alex are mostly-internet friends. man y'all have the worst luck huh. #so yeah theyre a whole mess.

[that-student-that-has-homework]

Matching - Portgas D. Ace

Find more of my work here: Tumblr MasterList

This is a little idea I had for a larger Ace fanfic I'm working on. I might revise this! Please let me know if he's in character or not...I'm starting to have my doubts.

It had been the better part of a week. No, maybe a whole week at this point. While before you’d spend most of your free time around him, now you were constantly “busy.” Heck sometimes he even finds it difficult to find you on the Moby Dick! Was this the end of the honeymoon phase everyone warned him about?

Were you starting to get tired of him?

You kept sneaking around...without him! Before you used to sneak around together! Worse still is…every time he pops up to see you, you always seem like you're hiding something. It's like quickly stashed papers, and tightly clenched fists. It’s the way you spin on your heel, and tense up, when you used to not do that at all.

What was maddening was how when the evenings would hit, or even at random parts of the day, you’d run and crash into him with a huge hug. You’d beam at him bright and genuine just upon seeing him, heck you’d be practically vibrating with joy as you’d squeeze the life out of him. He’d almost turned to fire once.

Maybe you weren’t tired of him?

When you did cuddle with him, your eyes seemed to linger on the tattoo on his arm. He’d even woken up to you tracing it with your finger once before. You’d looked sheepish that he’d caught you admiring it…actually you looked a little…panicked too…

You’d squirmed in his grasp when he asked you about it. Saying things like how it’s pretty, and how it’s a tattoo unique to him, so you were admiring it. You're pretty good at dodging his line of questioning whenever he voices his suspicions about your behavior. You were also incredibly sneaky about distracting him with your affections, and by the time he’s regained his original line of thought, you’d already be gone. 

There's something fishy in the air and it's not the sea king he caught the other day.

He only finds out what it is you'd been scheming behind his back when he gets back from a mission. He was so distracted for most of it. He couldn’t figure out why you were so clearly avoiding him sometimes…were you having second thoughts? What was going on? Was this an elaborate prank?

He was still in a daze as he made his way back to the Moby Dick. You used to bring peace, yet right now you’d thrown him into turmoil. He hated the way he was doubting you. He hated not knowing what was wrong.

“Hey look Ace’s back!”

“How’d it go champ?”

“Aaaaaaacee!” It was your voice that pulled him back completely.

He’d barely had a moment to look up than you’d thrown yourself on him with a hug. The force of it all almost send him toppling backwards. His hat had been knocked off his head, and he could feel the press of its medallion on his throat. He's relieved at how genuinely happy you are to see him, yet still an unease twists up his stomach in knots.

You pull away much too quickly, pulling his arms and rotating them, checking for any damage. The way you're checking up on him to make sure he's not hurt and that he's okay floods his entire system with warmth. Yet he can't help the constriction in his chest and the nagging as to what it was that had you sneaking around before he left if you missed him this badly?

He can hear the crew laughing at the obvious display of affection.

“Being bold there little missy,” they taunt you.

You shrink in on yourself a bit, embarrassment catching up to you. However when you take his hand in yours, and whistles and cheers break out, “I was doing it for Ace,” the timidity in the lines of your shoulders and face brings the heat to his own face, “I thought he might like it.”

He squeezes your hand in his. Yet his brain screams at him, then what was all that sneaking around about?

Unsure how to deal with things, he just studies you closely as you ask him about how things went and how the mission was. You're not up to anything really, or at least it doesn't seem like it. You're as attentive and engaged as ever, things are just as they used to be before.

You drag him to the kitchen, knowing he must be hungry as he usually is after a mission. You even sit with him in your little corner of the mess hall while he eats, something you hadn’t done much prior to his departure. He's talking to you about the guy with the interesting abilities that he'd fought with his mouth full, and you're indulging him.

Yet even as he tries to fall into your old pattern, the confusion only festers further. What had been going on with you?

He feels absolutely awful, doubting you with the way you’re listening to him like he's the most interesting guy in the world. To be fair, to you, he really is. He keeps talking and chewing and answering your questions, yet the thing he really wants to talk about is bubbling just below the surface. Somehow all the tension and excitement peaks and he goes head first into his plate of food.

When he finally comes back to, there’s no food on his face, and he’s resting on his arms on the dinner table, his plate off to his side. You’re still next to him, gently brushing your fingers through his hair, patiently de-tangling any clumps you come across. He groans while sitting up and blinking the sleep away.

“You’re up,” you observe aloud, “here let me clear these out of the way for you.”

You get up from beside him, unthinkingly pulling your sleeves up your forearms, and reach for the plates around him. He notices something odd about one of your hands as you walk away with the stack of plates in your hands, but before he can say much you're already on your way to the kitchen counter. He watches you, lethargically shoving food in his mouth as you hand the dishes over to Thatch, who looks at your hands, then looks his way for a moment with an amused grin.

He could actually hear the next thing as the cook raised his voice, “nah leave those dishes to me, go hang out with your loverboy.”

Had the pirate not shoved you away with a plate of food in hand, Ace got the feeling you would have pointedly ignored Thatch’s teasing to do the dishes. You walked back, your brow and lips pursed in a kind of indignation. He couldn’t help the little huff of amusement. You’d gotten much better at handling their teasing over time, but he wouldn’t deny it was cute how it would get to you sometimes.

You took a seat beside him again, sliding the plate the cook had given you towards him. Your…well he could only hope he was still really your beloved, just stared at you in silence as he chewed. For some reason it made you squirm.

That’s it. He’d had enough. He has to figure this out. You’d said it yourself, it’s really important to communicate things! That’s how relationships last!

“You’ve been real weird lately,” was what came out as he grabbed the new plate of food, “you been avoiding me?”

His brow furrowed at the way your gaze immediately fell, taking your expression with it, and how you began to fidget with your fingers - a nervous - wait. Ace’s hand extended to grab your left one, bringing it up to his face.

There on your left wrist, right where your pulse sat, in black ink sat the letters ASCE, arranged horizontally and smaller, but a perfect replica of his own otherwise. Instinctively he rubbed his thumb across it, almost as though he was checking to make sure this wasn’t an illusion and that wasn’t just normal ink from a pen.

You were looking back at him, he could see it in the way your shoulders bunched near your ears, and the wobble of your lips, and how you couldn’t keep eye contact for too long, but kept glancing back at him…you were nervous. He absentmindedly began drawing circles on your wrist, just staring at you.

“I was avoiding you, I guess,” you admitted, “I was hoping to surprise you with that,” your free hand moved to play with the hem of your shirt, as you shrunk even more, “was it presumptuous of me? Should I have asked first?”

“For a second I thought I’d managed to chase you away,” he admitted quietly, looking back down at the mark of permanence you’d etched into your skin, “that you’d gotten sick of me.”

You snatched your hand away before he could think, moving in to embrace him, “get sick, of you? Then I’d be a tasteless heathen or…whatever, unworthy of you- totally - completely - absolutely unworthy of you!”

Your arms tighten around him, “I’m so sorry I put you through that love.”

“All that sneaking around was for this tattoo?” He couldn’t help the involuntary little crack in his voice. “You really did surprise me darlin’.”

He pulls away from you first and his hands find your wrists, and his eyes again fall onto the symbol, the symbol of him, lovingly tattooed into your skin. A mark to let people know just who put the ring on your finger. 

He didn’t look up from it, even when you spoke up again, “Ace,” he just traced circles over the mark that sat proudly in bold black letters, “I’m really sorry that I made you feel that way - wait does that sound? It’s not-no wait. It’s my fault!” He glanced up at you for a moment as you struggled to put what you wanted to say into words, working strenuously to apologize sincerely.

His lips wobbled upwards.

He couldn’t help it.

You’d gone out of your way, to tattoo his mark onto your body. He couldn’t help but stare at it as he continued to rub circles with his thumb. Not only that, you were straining yourself so much all because he voiced that damned insecurity of his.

“I didn’t mean to put you through that?” You tried again. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but I didn’t want to hurt you.” You paused, and he felt you move closer. “I’m sorry if what I did hurt you-no-I’m sorry that I did hurt you.”

There was a pricking at the corners of eyes, as he finally took his eyes off your little gift to him to look at you. There was a kind of relief, or maybe it was appreciation? Maybe even a tinge of surprise? He was touched, that was one thing he knew for sure-if the fire that burned in his chest was any indication. He was a sick bastard for appreciating this, wasn’t he? Seeing you so genuinely apologetic - it was alarming really, did he really deserve this apology when he was doubting you? How could he ever hope to compete with this?

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, doll,” his voice was uncharacteristically quiet as he continued to rub circles into your wrists.

“No I do,” you insisted, “Ace, I’m happy you’re communicating how you felt to me,” you responded quietly, but firmly, “so don’t downplay how it felt when I was the one being sneaky.”

“You didn’t mean any harm though,” his lips pull into a gentle smile as he slowly brings your tattooed pulse up to brush his lips against it before flicking his gaze to meet yours, “you were here prepping this lovely gift for me and I was only thinking of myself.”

A smirk tugs at his lips at the way you have to shake yourself out of whatever spell he’d placed you under, “just because I didn’t mean any harm, doesn’t mean I didn’t do any harm,” you press on, shuddering a bit when he brushes another kiss to your pulse, “if you did the same, I’d probably have felt the same way too, you have nothing to feel bad about.”

“Forgive me for doubting you, cariña?”

He almost laughs at the affronted look you give him, firing back a, “forgive me for hurting you, love?”

“Nothing to forgive,” he’s smiling more now, “I’m glad you were being so sneaky, made this surprise all the better.”

“Don’t downplay your feelings Portgas D. Ace,” he could hear your frown, “your feelings are important to me, you’re important to me.”

“My full name cariña?” He couldn’t help but tease.

“Yes,” you answered immediately and he looked up to see how upset you looked - it was almost annoying - he’d rather not dwell, “I want you to get just how upset you were off your chest.”

That got a chuckle out of him, despite the irritation that was rising.

“I don’t want to think about it too much,” his smile fell for a moment, “I don’t want to ruin this happy moment with stupid emotions in the past.”

“But I don’t want them to fester-” 

“Mi amor,” he looked at you, almost pleading, “it’s true I felt like you were ignoring me, but seeing your little surprise makes me the happiest man on the five seas.”

Seems that was enough to quiet you. Though… “six, if you include the All Blue.”

When you chuckled at him, he felt his smile returning. He honestly couldn’t care less about the past. He’d said his piece, you’d talked it out, he didn’t care anymore.

“So, you know I love you right?” The timid way in which you asked was enough to knock the wind out of him.

Yet, he grinned, and brought your marked pulse up to lips again, “I love you too.”

“Oi get a room!” The two of you startled at the sudden shout coming from the other end of the mess hall. “Sure we can barely see you in your little corner, but the lovey-dovey energy in here is off the charts!”  

“Shut up Thatch!” Ace fired back. “You’re just mad you can’t gossip to Marco about it!”

“You’re the one blocking the show!”

“Good!”

“It’s real funny though,” there was a pause, “who’d have thought the wild Fire Fist was actually a huge pile of mush!”

With the newfound yelling, people started to file into the mess hall. Which was when he noticed it was mostly empty prior to that. Of course among the people who filed in was the aforementioned first division commander.

“You like your little surprise Ace?” He asked the younger man.

“Wait you knew?”

“Who else would she ask yoi?” The medic gave him a lazy grin before turning to you. “So, did you get to say what you wanted to say yoi?”

Ace studied you as you shook your head looking both disappointed and sheepish.

“What did you want to say?” He couldn’t help but ask.

You huffed, a sheepish smile wobbling your lips, as you moved to his left side, your right hand pushing his upper arm to show more of his tattoo.

"See,” you held up your own tattooed wrist next to his arm, “now we match."

Extra:

Ace later: “I’m gonna marry her.”

Marco (who is next to him): “aren’t you already married?”

#portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace fluff #portgas d ace #portgas d ace fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece #ace one piece

[livelaughlovesubs]

F-yo-dor~

Dom!reader x sub!fyodor (reader is gender neutral)

Warning: pegging (can be read as a dick), CNC, dacryphilia, feminisation

I wrote this before, but I changed some stuff

Fyodor positioned himself in your lap, straddling you before sitting down completely. He could feel a throbbing sensation as he let himself be filled. Then he shifted around for a bit, gaze not leaving yours for a moment. It was adorable how he thought he’s in control, just because he was on top. Once the man settled down comfortably, he started going up and down at you. Riding and bouncing on your dick with a hint of desperation. His hands gripped your shoulders, and he quickened his pace, revelling in the power he held in this situation. For example being able to choose the intensity of the act as he pleased, he smirked at you the entire time. Even though he tried to be more domineering in this case, he couldn’t keep his voice down. Moans slipped from his lips, mixed with an occasional whimper.

You just sat down and let him do, watching him getting off on top was you was amusing to say the least. How he looked at you was playful and smug, but you didn’t care, you were going to let him have his moment. The play unfolding in front of you was pathetic but also arousing. The sound of skin against skin reached your ears, along with his gasps and whimpers. Slowly his movements heightened in intensity, you could tell he was close already. “Ahh~uuUhhmm!" an especially loud moan slipped from the male as he came on top of you. His panting was heavy, torso rising and lowering with every breath.

After he came down from his high, he smirked at you. Looking at you through half lidded eyes, which were a bit hidden by his bangs. His cheeks had turned reddish, and he stopped holding onto you. “You aren’t satisfied, right? But I won’t keep going unless you beg.” Fyodor said, while his hole clenched around you, and thighs trembled with excitement. Then your hands suddenly gripped his hips. The grip was very rough, next day there would be marks. He yelped, shrieked and wrapped his arms around your neck again. Without wasting time you forced him to move back and forth, grinding the toy against his walls.

That look on his face! It was so lewd and perverted! How his eyes widened, mouth hung agape and shock washed over him. Out of nowhere his blush intensified, and was spreading to his shoulders now. “Did you have fun pretending to be in control? Haha~” you teased him, mocking him for his delusion.

A mixture of horror, confusing and pleasure blend within him as you kept forcing him to move. He didn’t know what to think about this situation, so all he did was moan on your dick like a slut in heat. “Ah..aAHHH..! oOH, nghh..” the sounds he made were amazing, you lost yourself in it and subconsciously fastened the pace. The grip on his waist tightened, almost painfully as you forcefully guide his movements. Pressing and trusting into him at an even faster pace then before. How you abruptly shifted the dynamics shocked him, the male was still irritated as to what just happened. His earlier teasing and confident gaze changed to one of vulnerability, your words reminding him that he is still at your mercy.

The pace which you set was so rough, it was too much for him. Pleasures and ecstasy rippled through his body, his eyes rolled back while his whole body shivered. Poor boy was drooling while he pleaded with you, “stop! AHhh s-stop~” tears were decorating his pretty face as well, hands gripping your arms now as you kept your steady movements. "Slow downnn! Nghh, ple-ase..gentler...”

You were still rutting into him, forcing him up and down your dick. His cries and whines were like music in your ears, causing you to increase the intensity once again. Making him surrender to the overwhelming sensations of pain and bliss. Each rhythmic snap of your hips against his got his head spinning around, the feeling maddening but also addictive. Things only got worse for the boy when you started hitting his sweet spot with precision. Now his dick throbbed and leaked uncontrollably, this was evidence of the pleasure he was receiving. “I-it's so..intense, hAah- you are so.. so rough with me! Nghh…please gimme a breaAAK~”

Without listening to his begs, you kept degrading him, “Hah, you are dipping wet down here, Fyodor. What, have you become a girl? Do you like this so much?” You snickered at the display in front of you. The words you whispered to him mingled with his brain, making him feel humiliated even somehow even more embarrassed than he already was. “N-no..'m not a girl.! I'm a guy- ahhh~ please, i-I'm not wet..!" He tried to defend himself even though he knew it's hopeless and that he was playing right into your palm. “It that so? F-yo-dor~?” The way you said his name made him shudder, how did he even turn into this mess? Wasn't he a feared ability user before? Reduced to a mere whore- no, your whore.

“AHHhh..pleA~se! I-I can't- uhmm, gahh..” “Are you close again? Go on, Fyodor, hehe.” You couldn’t help but chuckle, his unfocused eyes were really erotic after all. Luckily got him you gave him the permission he needed, he didn't think twice about it before white ropes of cum shoot from his arousal. Body shaking in your grip, head thrown back as he let out small begs for mercy. His legs trembled, unable to move after the intense play of you two. You were still holding his slim body, his soft skin against your fingers. He could feel his conscious fading, unable to keep his eyes from closing. The last thing he heard was, "mine." Before the exhaustion overtook his body and he slumped against your chest.

#sub character #sub!character #dom reader #dom!reader #sub bsd #sub bungou stray dogs #sub fyodor #fyodor bungo stray dogs #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor bungou stray dogs #fyodor bsd #fyodor #fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x you #fyodor x y/n #fyodor smut #fyodor dostoyevsky smut

[sebastianswallows]

Dreamed of you

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit sister is sent to kill Feyd. She hesitates as she watches him sleep, all the way until he wakes up and catches her.

— WARNINGS: none, just reader simping for one cute boy

— WORDCOUNT: 1k

— A/N: First of all, this isn't necessarily movie!Feyd, it's more based on the books, but I love him in all his forms. I wrote this in a bout of madness this evening, and it's just a love letter to how beautiful and soft and sad Feyd canonically is. That is all.

A shadow in the corner moved. The door shut behind her with a hiss. Outside, the chanting of his name resounded like a distant wave. Feyd. A myriad of emotions raged inside the way that sylphic syllable was said. So mangled and intense were they that she could hardly tell, even after weeks of being on Giedi Prime, if the feeling in their voices was that of fear, or love.

He had won another battle in the arena tonight. Half-fight, half-play, all a spectacle of violence kept elegant and grim with the flourished motions of his blades in inky black and white. The celebrations were kept modest afterwards. This was no birthday.

His chambers smelled of sweet sweat and bitter blood. It filled her lungs as soon as she stepped in. He slept now, quietly, in a surprisingly small bed. As she approached him, dagger in hand, she realised it was not so small — he just took little space on it.

He slept huddled to one side, his body curled within the black sheets as if he were in a womb.

The na-Baron was an arresting sight, like a work of art left interrupted. His marble-white arms hugged a pillow to his chest, and from beneath a curve of silk draped over him, the corner of a knee peeked through. The soft line of his eyes revealed a dour bend in sleep, delicate dark lashes resting like butterfly wings on his cheeks. His full lips, decadent and lustful, were pulled into a pout. She wondered what he was dreaming of.

Beneath this impressive amalgam of his features, from the dainty to the sultry to the broad shoulders and strong arms, he was just a little boy. Motherless and far from home, preyed on by his uncle, worshipped by a distant crowd. Useless, now that the Atreides line had ended and a child had been secured from him by Lady Fenring.

The Kwisatz Haderach would have to be reached through other means, and from a bloodline less volatile than that of the Harkonnens. They had proved uncooperative, hostile — the Baron, his nephews, even Lady Jessica. Born to be an asset, they made themselves a threat. That was why Feyd-Rautha had to die.

She stood over his black bed.

The guards outside were dealt with, the courtiers were asleep, and the drunk and maddened crowd outside would not realise what happened until it was too late. This was the result of years of planning, months of preparation, and weeks spent on that polluted planet pretending to be one of the new interrogation trainers.

Torturing was not her forté, but there were worse fates than cutting men’s tendons clean or gouging out their eyeballs. All the “noble” prisoners were already long dead before she got there. Failed Harkonnens was all that was left. And all men bled the same.

She stood over his black bed with a knife.

“He must die,” she thought to herself, an angry frown blooming on her brow. Her body was already rebelling. “The Reverend Mother demands it. He must die.”

She stood over his black bed with a knife. And faltered.

The blade shone silver in the low electric light, hanging like a teardrop from her fist. Her body refused to move.

Should she really kill him now? Perhaps she should wait for him to turn on his back. What would it hurt to look at him a second more, just another, and another…? He was a good fighter, no matter the arrangements of the arena. Would it not be ignoble to slay him this way? Generations of genetic planning had culminated in him, and to let it all go now...

Her mind’s motions, the fleshy resistance, it all came to nothing in an instant, blown away like snowflakes on the sand. There was a change in the air all around them, a stillness where unconsciousness was before, a presence, like a horn blown through a storm in the lighthouses of old, sounds swallowed by sounds, an impact of cells in the air blooming into a single point of light. Feyd-Rautha opened his eyes.

She only caught the hint of an impish smile before she backed away as quickly as an indrawn breath. Her back hit the door and her hand scrambled for the handle, but he was upon her with the same speed he applied in his gladiatorial fights.

How could she have missed the signs that he had woken? Had his breathing even changed?

“Got you now,” he purred against her cheek, “Bene Gesserit.”

She bit back a scream, her skull pressed against the metal door, and with clenched teeth, she began a sharp command — the Voice. But her anger overwhelmed her and Feyd’s lips swallowed the words she hadn’t even finished speaking.

“Let me g—”

He kissed her like a lover. There was a passion in him that his ostentations of brutality had not yet killed and she found herself moaning, instinctively pleased with the full and masculine presence that swallowed her being — as if it wasn’t a murderer who had caught her just now.

His breathing was steady, as if he had planned all of that. From beyond the thick folds of her dress, she could feel his naked flesh. They clung to him, her clothes, as if they wanted to embrace him. His left hand held her fist, the blade trapped within their entangled grip. The other held her jaw, tilting her face high enough for his lips.

“I knew you’d come,” he breathed, pausing to rest his mouth on hers. She could taste ink on her tongue — the final traces from the coating on his teeth. “I dreamed of you.”

So that was how he knew. That was why he pouted in his sleep.

“Will you kill me?” he whispered.

She could feel it on her cheeks when that boyish smile of his grew.

“I have to,” she said, and her own voice betrayed her, sounding terribly broken.

“Try,” Feyd grinned.

#Feyd-Rautha #Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen #Feyd-Rautha x reader #Feyd x reader #Dune #Dune part 2 #Feyd oneshot #Dune imagine #Feyd-Rautha imagine #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;made a thing #can't remember the last time I wrote something so short #I just really wanted to get it done tonight #I love him so much I'm unwell #Feyd #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha imagine

[hairstevington]

Teleplatonic

Summary: Robin starts hearing voices in Click's class. Well, it's one voice. A dude. Some douchebag jock who Robin's unrequited love has a thing for. Could high school be any worse? (5K words)

Warnings: Not much just Steve and Robin being platonic soulmates, mention of Steddie and Stommy backstory, Click's class and Scoops Ahoy era Stobin, the coming out scene (my beloved)

A/N: Many thanks to my discord ( @strangerthingswritersguild ) who encouraged me to take my silly idea and turn it into a cute lil fluffy one shot about the power of platonic loveeeee. Ao3 link here for those interested!

----------------------------------

At first, Robin thought she was going crazy.

Honestly, it wouldn’t have surprised her. She was already a closeted lesbian in the eighties, so she was doomed anyway. Might as well add schizophrenia to the list. 

Click’s class was a mixed bag. On one hand, Tammy Thompson. On the other, Steve Harrington.

Ugh. 

Robin had been in love with Tammy Thompson since the fifth grade, when they split a candy bar the day after Halloween. Robin wasn’t allowed to eat much candy growing up, thanks to her father being a dentist. Tammy extended an olive branch by means of chocolate nougat, and Robin had been smitten ever since. 

This was their first class together in high school, and it was supposed to be amazing. Robin was going to work up the courage to really talk to Tammy and maybe even be her friend. Yeah, it might torture Robin even more, considering the crush that was clearly not going to go anywhere - Robin had watched Tammy date enough guys to know there was no chance, and even if there was, Robin was far too anxious to do anything about it. 

But still.

The first day of Click’s class came, and it was perfect. Robin was paired up with Tammy to discuss an assignment, and they were getting along beautifully. Robin even made her laugh! 

Robin was an idiot who got her hopes up, and those hopes were immediately dashed when Steve “The Hair” Harrington rolled into the classroom, late, and plopped himself down right in front of Robin.

Immediately, Tammy’s eyes were on him, and they stayed on him the rest of the year. It didn’t matter when he got bagel crumbs everywhere, or asked stupid questions, or laughed along when kids were being made fun of. None of that mattered, because Tammy didn’t care. 

Robin hated Steve Harrington so much she never stopped thinking about him. She thought about how much she hated him, how much she wished he’d flunk out, and she even thought about ways she could sabotage him so he would flunk out.

But Robin was a good person, and she could never do something like that. 

Anyway, thank goodness she was smart, because she barely paid attention in that class and still got an A. The problem was, she started hearing voices.

Well, no. She heard one voice, singular. A man, no less. 

At first it was so soft, she figured someone was whispering behind her. She couldn’t even make out the words most of the time, so it didn’t matter. She’d look at Tammy, and she’d look at Steve, and everything else was a blur. 

Over time, the voice got louder, and then Robin couldn’t ignore it anymore. 

This class is such a snooze. 

Honestly, it was. Robin would have been thinking the same thing, had she been paying attention. But then, the voice started saying things she didn’t agree with. Things she would never think. 

Napoleon looks just like Aunt Margaret’s baby. Ha, that’s funny. I’m funny.

The voice continued, saying even stranger things. Usually very sexual things. Sometimes, downright offensive things. It was maddening.

Mrs. Buckley was a psychotherapist, so Robin grew up surrounded by literature about psychology and the human brain. She was aware of crazy people that heard voices, and she had no option other than to accept that she was on the road to becoming one of those people. It was just…it was weird though, because she only heard the voice at school. And it was always loudest in Click’s class. 

The possibility that she was reading someone’s mind did occur to her, but that seemed impossible. It was impossible, so she had a hard time even letting herself think that. Yeah, Robin would have rather found herself crazy than let herself believe she was a superhero. Her mom would have had a field day unpacking that one with her.

Anyway, she finally put all the pieces together a few weeks in, after another particularly boring lecture in Click’s class. 

I’m so lost.

Literally how? They were just reviewing information they’d already learned. She wondered if maybe this voice was a manifestation of her low self esteem or something. She wished she would have been able to tell her parents without worrying about being sent to the loony bin.

“Steve?” Mrs. Click called. “Can you name the four presidents depicted on Mount Rushmore?”

The voice continued.

Oh, shit. Shit shit shit. I’m screwed. Why is she asking me of all people? Do I look like I know the goddamn answer? 

It was the first time the voice was responding. Robin’s head started reeling.

“Uhhhh -” Steve began. “Well, it’s, uhhh….” Okay, four presidents. I can name four presidents. If they’re wrong, she’ll move on.  “George Washington…”

“Very good,” Mrs. Click encouraged.

Right on, okay. Shit. Is Benjamin Franklin a president? He seems like he should be. 

Robin’s breath hitched as she froze, recognizing the two voices as the same and officially coming to terms with her predicament. She gasped, cupping her hand over her mouth. A few people turned to look at her, including Steve, who only glanced at her before looking back at the front of the classroom.

Steve cleared his throat and sat up. “Uhh, what about all the presidents that aren’t on Mount Rushmore, right? Like - like Teddy Roosevelt. That guy was a total badass.” Steve folded his arms, as if he’d made an incredible, life changing point.

“Theodore Roosevelt is one of the presidents on Mount Rushmore, Mr. Harrington,” Mrs. Click said.

“Oh,” Steve replied, caught off guard. Fuck. “Oh, right. I mean, that’s what I was trying to say.”

You’re an idiot, Steve. A goddamn idiot.

Robin couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, in a way. She hated him, but still. He was a person with feelings. He couldn’t help that he was an idiot.

She raised her hand.

“Mrs. Click, I know the answer,” Robin announced. The teacher gestured for Robin to take over. “George Washington, Theodore Roosevelt, Abraham Lincoln, and Thomas Jefferson.”

Thank God for band geeks. 

Robin sighed. Sure, she’d helped him. But he was still a douchebag.

-

The class carried on like this. Any time Robin felt any sort of connection to Tammy, she’d get distracted by the idiot who’s hair wasn’t even that good. It certainly didn’t warrant a whole nickname over. Steve “I don’t care” Harrington would have been more accurate. 

That’s the part that drove Robin the most crazy. He didn’t care about Tammy. He didn’t care about school. He didn’t care about history. Why was he there? Why was his one true talent being the absolute bane of her existence?

I have to stop thinking about it. 

Robin’s ears perked up, which was a silly phrase considering she wasn’t hearing soundwaves. The whole, “I’m hearing Steve Harrington’s inner thoughts” had lost its luster. Like, she thought she was going crazy, then she thought she was going crazy in a different way, and then she realized she was just cursed. 

Worst. Superpower. Ever.

Especially because she couldn’t hear anyone else! What made Steve different? Why him, of all people???

Grow up, Steve. It doesn’t mean anything.

The voice sounded much more somber that day. Robin leaned back, closer to Steve’s seat, even though the idea of her being physically closer was a bit arbitrary.

Ugh, but Tommy looks so good today.

Wait, did he say Tammy? Was he finally giving Tammy the time of day?

What I’d give to kiss him again…

Robin’s eyes bulged out of her head. She practically fell out of her chair, causing alarm to the rest of the class. 

‘Him?!?!’ Steve wanted to kiss ‘him?!?!’ Wait - Steve had this friend - Tommy H - and, ugh, that guy was even worse than Steve. He was meaner, and stupider, and - 

STEVE WANTED TO KISS A GUY?! AGAIN?!

Robin scrambled back into her seat, muttering a quiet apology, and everything around her returned to normal. 

She didn’t, though. Nothing would ever be normal again.

-

Robin survived Click’s class. Steve started getting a reputation. She didn’t talk to him, but there was nothing discreet about the way he was seen prancing through the halls with his arm around a different girl every week. 

None of them were Tammy. Robin hated how relieved that made her. 

It was strange. He was drooling about Tommy in his mind any time Robin was close enough to hear it, but on the outside, he was pretending to be something completely different.

For the first time, Robin realized she and Steve had something in common.

The following year, she avoided him at all costs. They didn’t have any other classes together, so she really only had to worry about casually passing him in the halls or sitting near him in the cafeteria. It just felt too real to be around him. She knew something she wasn’t supposed to, and that made her feel…icky.

Of course, they were at the same school, so they did run into each other a few times. Once, he literally bumped into her when he wasn’t paying attention.

“Woah, sorry,” he said with a laugh. Do I know her?

Robin rolled her eyes, and then she saw his gaze drift. Ugh, Carol. Why is he even dating her?

She ran away without another word, like a scared little mouse. He probably thought she was this weird, hyper, super-nerd, but whatever. It didn’t matter what he thought of her, and she wasn’t going to stick around long enough to find out.

Then, one day, she saw Tommy and Steve running off to talk in private, and curiosity got the best of her.

She had to know what was going on, okay? She was borderline obsessed with Steve at this point. She was far past trying to figure out what was going on in her head, so she settled for learning more about what was going on in his.

Besides, if they really wanted the conversation to be private, they would have gone somewhere that didn’t have a spot nearby prime for snooping.

She listened in from behind a wall.

“What are you on about, Harrington?” Tommy asked.

He’s not even listening. I don’t know why I’m surprised anymore.

“I’m just saying, she’s - like, what are you doing, man?”

There was a slam of a body against a locker. 

“I got a girlfriend,” Tommy drawled. “You should try it sometime.”

God, his lips are so close. I could just lean in and - no. No, I have to get over this. I can’t keep doing this.

“Maybe I will,” Steve said.

About a week later, he was dating Nancy Wheeler.

Their paths didn’t intersect much at all after that. Robin did think about meddling or investigating the situation more, but it wasn’t her business. Steve kept telling himself he had to move on, and she did too.

She still thought about Steve constantly, but it was hard not to. He was literally in her head. Sometimes she’d pass by him and hear total nonsense. I’d rather be fighting a goddamn demodog than go to math. Most of the time he just thought about what superpowers he’d have. 

And then, mercifully, he graduated.

-

That summer, Robin got a job slinging ice cream at a nautical-themed store in Starcourt Mall. She had to wear a stupid outfit, but, like - she was in the marching band, she was used to that. The job was fine, albeit boring. It gave her extra money so she could save up for…something, eventually. She didn’t know what yet. Maybe college? Every penny counts and all that.

But one fateful day in June, the voice came back.

No, no, no. I can’t go in there, not like this. It’s humiliating. I’ll - no, get over yourself. It’s just a job. You stupid pathetic loser, can’t even get into college. No, shh. This will be good for you. Just - oh my God, just go in!

Robin didn’t even look up from wiping the counter when her new coworker approached. She didn’t have to.

He was different than when he’d been in high school. He was sadder. It was even more miserable to hear him ramble on about his innermost insecurities than it was to hear him think about boobs. 

Like, at least Robin also thought about boobs. She was insecure too, but that meant there was no space in her brain to hear anyone else’s thoughts about themselves. 

The weird thing was, he didn’t think about Tommy at all, and he was flirting with every woman that came in. Unsuccessfully, but still. 

It was…incredibly surreal, her becoming friends with someone and hearing them become friends with her at the same time. Robin could hear him trust her more and more as the days went by. She could hear him change his initial assumptions about her. She could hear him soften up, open up, and show her that he’d changed. He was different than he’d been in Click’s class. He’d left his high school persona behind.

She could hear him slowly fall for her.

That was the worst part of the whole thing by far. Worse than Click’s class. Worse than holding his secret feelings for Tommy, worse than the stupid questions and musings that made no sense. He was starting to love her, and she was starting to love him - but, she knew the types of love weren’t the same. She would disappoint him, and she’d lose him. 

How strange it was to fear losing something she used to loathe having at all.

-

Honestly, by the time they were stuck in that elevator, she’d been prepped on everything based on Steve’s thoughts alone. There was too much going on for anyone to question her lack of freaking out. Besides, it’s not like Steve or Dustin were the poster children for good decisions under pressure. 

At least, she figured they wouldn’t be. 

Erica was strong and capable, but she was a child. So was Dustin, but it was abundantly clear to Robin that this wasn’t his first rodeo. Same with Steve, but she knew that already. Over the few weeks of them working together, she’d heard all kinds of things. Things she’d once brushed off as nonsense, that became too specific to ignore. The Upside Down. The Russians. Eleven. The Mindflayer. 

Robin thought it was part of some game, at first. Dustin was into Dungeons and Dragons, right? She was pretty sure the Mindflayer was from that, but no. Steve wasn’t into Dungeons and Dragons at all - she checked - and she started hearing more about experiences rooted in the real world. She heard about what really happened to Barb, and how it ripped Steve and Nancy apart. She heard about how Nancy ran off with Jonathan, and how Steve let her. She heard about Steve becoming a babysitter in the thick of it, because he had to. She heard about how he got himself beat up in the name of protecting them. 

And then she watched him get beat up again, in the name of protecting her. 

She did love him. Yeah. It was against everything she’d ever believed, but she loved Steve Harrington. She just didn’t love him like that.

-

She tried to tell him when they were on the floor, tied to the chair, and seemingly with only hours left to live, if that.

She started laughing. She wasn’t sure what else there was to do.

Fuck, that hurt. Oh shit, she’s crying. “It’s okay, don’t cry. Robin.” Ugh, the way he was trying to comfort her even in the worst of times. It made her ache. She kept laughing, louder now. “Wait, are you laughing?”

Yup.

“Yeah.”

What the hell is wrong with this woman? 

“Jesus.”

“I just can’t believe,” she began, “that I’m going to die in a secret Russian base with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. It’s just too trippy, man.”

It was trippy for even more reasons than he could ever know.

Yeah, you’re telling me. We’re screwed. “We’re not gonna die,” he said. Another annoying consequence of this whole mind reading thing was that she would always know when he was lying. “We’re gonna get out of here, I just gotta think for a second.”

“Sure, please do,” Robin insisted, still laughing. Him thinking consisted mostly of, shit shit shit oh my God shit what do we do?  

But Steve rarely let that side show. He was so much different on the inside, all the time. 

“Do you remember, um - Sophomore year Mrs. Click’s history class?”

Oh, shit. That just slipped out. Then again, they were gonna die, so…

“What?”

Robin continued. “Mrs. Clickety-Clackety. That’s what all us band dweebs called her. It was first period - Tuesdays and Thursdays - so you were always late. And you always had the same breakfast. Bacon egg and cheese on a sesame bagel. I sat behind you two days a week for a year. Mister Funny. Mister Cool. The King of Hawkins High himself. Do you even remember me from that class?”

No. 

He didn’t say it, and he didn’t have to. “Of course you don’t,” Robin continued. Thoughts of that year came flooding back to her like a tsunami. “You were a real asshole, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“But it didn’t even matter that you were an ass, I was still obsessed with you." The words were pouring out of her now. "Even though all of us losers pretend to be above it all, we still just want to be popular. Accepted. Normal.”

His thoughts were a mere buzzing in the background of her confession, but she did pick out him lighting up at her mentioning her obsession. She immediately wished she’d just been totally honest, because now she was being misconstrued. 

“If it makes you feel any better, having those things isn’t all that great,” he said.

She knew that by now. She’d learned it through him. 

“Steve, I -”

“I wish I’d known you back in Click’s class,” Steve said. “Maybe you would have helped me pass.”

“I did,” she confessed. “Or, at least I tried.”

“What?”

A buzzer shook them away from their conversation. She’d missed her chance. It was over.

And then came the truth serum. That damned, terrifying, life-changing, blessed truth serum. 

Well, that and Dustin saving their asses with a cattle prod.

After that came more laughter and terror and running and even more laughter and more running and then they were in an elevator back up to the real world again. She was with her friend and she was ecstatic. It was like she was floating. She’d never so much as had a sip of alcohol, but this is what she always imagined musicians felt like when they wrote all those songs about being on drugs.

Popcorn. Back to the Future. Laughing, laughing, laughing. You know, the weird part about that truth serum was that she stopped hearing Steve’s thoughts, if only for a bit. He said everything he thought, so it really just sounded like an echo, and everything sounded like an echo to her. The colors were bright. The noises were loud. And Steve was - 

Oh, no. Steve was her best friend. 

They both got sick and ran for the bathroom. There was that rare moment of calm that, up until that point, she never thought she’d have again. 

“You think we puked all that shit out of our system?” he asked.

Well. There was only one way to find out.

“Maybe,” Robin responded. “Ask me something.”

If he could read her mind, he would have heard something like - Ask me if I’m gay. Please, do this for me like I did for you. I don’t think I can say the words.

Instead, he asked her when the last time she peed herself was. She answered truthfully, but that wasn’t a truth she was scared to admit. They were being tortured earlier - peeing herself was the least of her worries.

“Alright, my turn,” Robin said. She took a deep breath and pondered the question, knowing that whatever she asked she likely already knew the answer to. But it wasn’t about knowing. It was about getting to the conversation she needed to have. If she didn’t do it now, she never would. 

“Have you ever been in love?”

Steve answered quickly. “Yep. Nancy Wheeler, first semester, senior year.” 

He didn’t mention Tommy, which was intriguing. From Robin’s point of view, he had dated her for show. Or, he’d dated her because Tommy rejected him.

“Really?” Robin asked, amused. “But she’s such a priss.”

Yeah, until she threatened to shoot me. “Hm,” Steve replied. “Turns out, not really.”

Woah. Okay. Evidently, Robin didn’t know everything yet.

“Are you still in love with Nancy?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I think I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.”

Robin took a deep breath and put her head in her hands. This needed to happen, but she was still so scared. Even if he wasn’t homophobic, he loved her, and she was about to turn him down. How could their friendship sustain that? What would happen if he hated her guts, and she had to hear him think it every time they interacted?

She listened to him list off all the reasons he liked her. She was funny. She was smart. She was cool. Beautiful. He said all the things she’d heard him say in so many ways on the inside, but now it was real. 

She couldn’t find any words to respond.

“Robin, did you just O.D. in there?”

“No,” she replied, her voice shaking. “I am still alive.”

He slid himself under the stall against the disgusting floor so he could face her. Oh, great. This wasn’t going to help at all.

“So what do you think?” he asked.

“Steve, I have to tell you something,” she said. “That thing I told you earlier, about being obsessed with you in Click’s class - it wasn’t - it wasn’t because I had a crush on you.”

He listened so intently his mind went quiet.

Robin told Steve about Tammy Thompson, and she saw him process it in real time. It didn’t take long, once he understood what she was referring to.

“Oh,” he finally said. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Holy shit.”

This is huge. I should tell her about Tommy. I should - I could - I finally have someone I can talk to about it.

“Steve, did you O.D. over there?”

“No, just thinking.”

I - I can’t. I can’t do it.

So instead, he did what he did best, and he made her laugh. And then the entire moment became focused on that, and how insane it was for them to be on the floor of the Starcourt bathroom after having spent days underground being tortured by Russians. 

She didn’t get to tell him her other secret that day. They were quickly interrupted yet again by Dustin and thrust back into the madness. 

But it didn’t matter. She knew she’d still have a friend once they saved the world.

-

After Starcourt “burned down” (Robin had to admit, she kind of loved officially being a part of the inner circle. She was now involved in the madness, and even though it was terrifying and awful and traumatic, it was so much more exciting than her world used to be), Robin and Steve decided to keep working together, because of course they did. 

He had her secret, and she had his. He still didn’t know about that second part though.

They got a job at Family Video, thanks to her excellent ability to think on her feet and ramble until people gave her what she wanted. Keith was relatively easy to persuade. 

After she came out to him and they became best buds, reading his mind developed into more of an echo all the time when it was just the two of them, because he told her everything he was thinking exactly the way he thought it. 

There was only one thing he left out. 

Tom Cruise is so hot. Oh God, do I have a kink for dudes named Tom? 

Then, after Eddie Munson came in a few times - Huh, okay. There goes the Tom theory.

Robin couldn’t take it anymore. So, one day, when Steve was driving her home, she blurted it out.

“Steve, I can read your mind.”

He laughed at first. “What?”

“I can read your mind,” she said. “Just yours.”

“Uhhhh, is this some kind of weird joke?” he asked.

“No,” she replied. “I’m - ugh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you, and I - I’ve felt really awful about it, but I’ve been hearing your stupid thoughts ever since Click’s class, and I tried to tell you that day, but then I ended up telling you the other thing, and this felt like too much, and then we became really good friends and honestly it’s barely a thing anymore because we tell each other everything except for -”

“Wait, what??!” 

Yeah, she knew she sounded crazy. 

“Remember that day Mrs. Click called on you to ask which presidents were on Mount Rushmore? And you totally bombed?”

“No,” Steve said. “That kinda thing happened to me like three times a day.”

“Ugh, okay, well -” Robin stuttered, at least grateful he wasn’t kicking her out of the car. “Never mind. It’s just -”

“It’s only me?” he wondered. His voice was different now. “What am I thinking about right now?”

Robin honed in on his inner voice. “You just thought about how you accidentally stepped on a copy of The Breakfast Club and smashed it, and instead of confessing to Keith you told him that John Dover stole it and never gave it back, even though John Dover isn’t real.”

Steve’s eyes went wide.

“Hoooooly shit,” he said. 

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit!” he repeated.

“I know!”

“Oh, my God!”

“I know!”

“Robin, this is insane!”

“I KNOW!!”

The car went quiet as Steve continued to wrap his brain around this. Well, it was quiet to anyone but the two of them. 

Why is it only me?

“I don’t know,” Robin answered.

“Will you quit doing that?”

“I can’t help it!” she shot back. 

Steve took a deep breath. “Okay, so you’ve been reading my mind for years. Got it. Cool. Totally cool.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“For not telling you.” 

Steve gave a comforting smile. “Oh, yeah. You should be sorry for that.” Robin smacked him in response, and suddenly they were laughing again. 

“Jerk!” she exclaimed. Once their laughter died down, he hummed in amusement. 

"You know, it's really not fair you can read my mind and I can't read yours."

Robin nodded. "Agreed." There was another moment of silence between them.

“Huh,” he said. “Do you think we’re soulmates?”

Robin cocked her head and furrowed her brow in confusion. “What? Ew, Steve no -”

“Not, like, sexy soulmates,” he clarified.

“Sexy soulmates? Really?” she teased. 

“Give me a break, Buckley,” he replied. “I just found out you’ve been in my head for two years, alright? It’s weird.”

She couldn’t argue with that. “Yeah.”

“So,” Steve continued. “You knew about the Upside Down stuff before the elevator thing.”

“Yeah.”

“Which means you also probably know…” 

The Tommy thing. 

“Yeah,” she confirmed.

“Stop saying yeah.”

“Okay.”

“I guess I just -” Steve sighed, throwing his head back against the seat. “I guess I’m freaking out a little, cuz like - privacy and all that.”

“I wish I could control it, trust me -”

“No, I know that,” he replied. “I mean, shit, if I could be out of my own head I would be. But, like, I don’t know. It’s kinda nice that you’re in there. Like, if it had to be anyone…”

“It would be your non-sexy soulmate,” Robin concluded with a smirk.

Steve returned it. “Oh, I’m gonna regret that, huh?”

“Forever and ever, babe.”

She couldn’t believe it. Finally, everything was out in the open. It was all up from here, right?

“Okay,” Steve said. “Well. If this is happening whether we like it or not, better put it to good use, right?”

She raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” Steve grinned. Robin’s eyes widened as she heard his idea moments before they were spoken.

“Robin, I’m gonna help you talk to girls.”

WHAT?!

-

This was hopeless and humiliating. How Steve was able to convince her this was a good idea, she would never know. 

Tammy had graduated and gone to Nashville or whatever, but Vickie…

They had so much in common! And she was so pretty, and so sweet, and - and they played right next to each other in the marching band!

Of course, Robin could barely squeak a word out whenever Vickie looked her way. Thus, Steve decided she needed to practice. 

He let her take some of the pretty customers instead of keeping them all for himself. At first, it was rough.

Be cool. Act like you don’t even like her.

“I don’t even like you.”

Okay, not like that. 

It got easier, though. Eventually, Robin started to take hold of that classic Harrington charm. She wasn’t getting numbers or anything, but that’s not what it was about. It was their own special thing that they had. A secret mission. An inside joke. A bit they were fully committed to, even if only for their own enjoyment.

It was so weird and ridiculous, but whatever. 

Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington, one-sided mind-reading duo and non-sexy soulmates. Who would have thought?

___________________________

I have no idea who to tag for this (my taglist is based on romantic pairings lmao), so hopefully whoever is interested finds it okay! <3

#platonic stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #writing #stobin #steve and robin #platonic soulmates stobin

[momentomori24]

I swear to God, Twitter being able to accumulate so many brain-dead, malicious, pseudo intellectual low lives all in one place at the same time is a phenomenon worthy of being studied under a microscope in a science lab. And no, that is not a compliment.

Thankfully people have already spoken out against this bullshit-- the fact that people needed to is already maddening to think about-- but as someone who got the basic gist of what happened literally yesterday I'll also put my voice out there: Don't you fucking dare try to paint Hbomb as a murderer over this situation.

Somerton may be a lying, misogynistic plagiarist and conman, but he obviously doesn't deserve to die and while I do make fun of the guy, I genuinely hope that he continues to have a life after the dust has settled on everything. Not on YouTube or any social media platform for a long time at least, but just a life nontheless. I don't wish what he's potentially going through on anyone, and I hope that he makes it through this. But regardless of if he does or doesn't-- and God forbid he doesn't-- none of this is Hbomb's fault. It's not his fault, or Kat's fault, or Jessie's fault (because apparently there's people blaming her too cuz WHY NOT), or anybody's fault. All they did was call out his actions, hold him accountable for the harm he's done. They have done nothing to deserve having to carry this on their shoulders should the worst happen. They did nothing wrong. They didn't kill James (he's not confirmed dead yet either btw). They are not murderers. And to the people saying they are: say those words out loud, listen how they sound like, and re-evaluate. Just cease.

And to people like this:

''Oh I'm not blaming him for anything I'm just blaming him for what his audience did because according to HIM you're responsible for your audience'' Yeah, you people can shut your mouths too. Of course you're responsible for your audience, and that includes Hbomb too. However, your tiny, godless little monkey brain can't see why your argument is still rubbish even with that in mind. The difference between James, Internet Historian and Hbomb is that Hbomb never promoted problematic behaviour to his audience. If you promote problematic shit like harassment or misogyny or racism, then yeah, you're absolutely responsible for how your behaviour influences your audience. But that's not what he did. He made it very clear where he stood on those things, literally stating that ''if anyone were to harass Somerton on his behalf they are worse than him and will not see the light of heaven''. He's done his part in making it clear that harassment is wrong, so if someone went out of their way to go against that and harass James anyway that doesn't reflecf on him at all. Also, what the hell do you mean ''hatemobbed'' to suicide? I don't doubt there are people who went to extremes because those bad apples always exist, but most of the things I've seen are valid critisisms, memes and call outs about that guy. If holding people accountable for their actions and poking fun at them a little counts as 'hatemobbing'' (which has Filip calling his critics a ''lynch mob'' energy tbh) what the hell do you call actual hatemobbing then? Do we just let people continue being shitty because calling them out ''damages their mental health'' or ''drives them to suicide'' then? Is that a world you want to live in?

Same thing goes for people like this:

Criticing someone for their objectively bullshit content and wanting them dead are two seperate things. What the actual hell is wrong with you. The plagiarist in question is a person. Those ''harshest critics'' are still people. And because we're people, we care. I'd rather James pump out more plagiarised slop than commit suicide. I'd still hate him for it, but I'd prefer him being alive over the alternative any day. We all do. None of us would sleep easier knowing he's dead just because he wouldn't be ''committing the cardinal sin of putting out a 'pure content mill' video'' because someone taking their own life is horrific-- especially Hbomberguy, how dare you even try to imply that?

And this gets me to the reason I'm furiously typing all this out in the first place: Hbomb is the fucking victim here, so stop treating him like he isn't. He tried making things as right as possible by compensating those that were burned by James through a video where he revealed everything there needs to be known about the guy so that less people fall victim to his actions and lies. To just ignore the harm James was causing while he had the evidence to prove it and platform too big to threaten into non existence should he speak out would've been bad. So he didn't. He did the right thing by sticking with the people James had stolen from, giving them a voice and making them known after they've been scrubbed from the picture by decidedly being uncredited for their works or bullied into silence. He shouldn't have to deal with this for doing the right thing. He shouldn't be labelled a murderer for doing the right thing. He shouldn't have to have the death of a man on his conscience for doing the right thing. People claiming otherwise are obviously wrong, but I can't imagine what all this must feel like right now. Because even tho they're wrong, guilt isn't a rational thing, and I know that if I were in his position I'd still feel like a morally bankrupt individual were the worst to happen even if I knew that it was not my fault. This isn't a funny story. So to add to this dumpsterfire by using it as a prop to bash on a creator you don't like and immediately write Somerton off as dead even when he's not even been confirmed dead yet to do that shows how little these people actually care about the thing they're talking about. They don't care a guy potentially killed himself-- what they care about is using it to paint Hbomb in a bad light because they don't like him. Here they are, posting memes and ill jokes about this very delicate situation while barely a day since the news broke out had passed. It's opportunistic, it's sickening, and literally the exact thing he criticised in his video when talking about 'content mills'. Like, I know none of these clowns bothered to actually watch it, but have some self-awareness. And some shame too, while you're at it.

This long story short: I'm writing this to contribute to the narrative not getting twisted to make Hbomb out to be the villian. Same goes for everyone else. Don't let these people paint them as the villians. If I see another person pull this shit again I will literally bite you and shred you into salad and spit you back out because I hate you so much and I mean that wholeheartedly.

To Hbomb: you will never see this but if you do, take care of yourself.

To the asshats this post is about: Delete your account. Cease all together. Stop talking about this. Just leave him the fuck alone.

#hbomberguy #james somerton #this post took me ages to finish and really grinds my gears #i would not survive on that hellscape with people like this holy shit #really hope this situation turns out for the best #i wrote this while i was frustrated and sleep deprived so apologies for unnoticed grammar i'll correct it later #i'll be keeping my eyes peeled for any updates on this situation this is actually getting scary

[blayresmuses]

cherished

summary: deep down all daemon wants is to feel wanted, a feeling he only gets from you.

warnings: mature content & sexual themes

- he adores the way you’re looking at him.

your eyes are glassy, teary almost and daemon knows you’re so close to begging for it, begging for him. he desperately wants to sink into you then and there but he resists, instead watching you writhe with a satisfied smirk on his face as he slips the head of his cock against your clit.

it was torture, you thought, and even worse he was enjoying it, took pleasure in it even. purposely you dug your fingernails into his thigh as he moved again coating himself in you once more, so close to where you wanted him, ‘won’t you hurry up and fuck me?”

daemon chuckled, the firelight from the barrage of candles in the room reflecting in his eyes. ‘so vulgar,’ he tutted in mock distaste. ‘and here i thought i had a lady in my bed.’ he really didn’t want anyone else though, not when you were so lovely, so perfect spread out for him. daemons eyes studied the subtle arch of your back, the tiny movements of your hips as you tried to take your own pleasure.

you made him feel wanted, like he’d taken caraxes and hung every star in the sky just for you, that’s how you looked at him. it was intoxicating and maddening, ‘daemon’ you huffed, pleading now and he felt it, the wetness only continuing to gather at the apex of your thighs, the thought of it made his mouth water and an impatient groan slipped through his parted lips.

it didn’t matter here with you that he was a second son, that he’d been disowned as heir, all that mattered was you and suddenly daemon wanted you screaming, arching in pleasure he wanted everyone to know that he was worthy of you, not the other way around, he deserved you here in his bed.

the pleased cry that left your mouth as he finally bottomed out in you sent ripples of pleasure down his spine. daemon realised then that no matter what happened that this would be his safe place, the place where he was needed, cherished even as your lips took his in a sloppy kiss.

#this wasn’t supposed to be emotional #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen

[shdo-xplosion]

spaghetti straps - r. shidou ࿐

warnings: 2.4k; fem-bodied reader, coercion, reader wants to fuck more than she’d like to admit, shidou is a little annoying, shidou can lift and hold you (he stronk athlete), dirty talk, semi-public sex, a little plot, p in v, creampie

note: hi! (✿◠‿◠) my first shidou fic (finally) and my contribution to @saintshiba’s sundress szn collab! truly hope everybody enjoys my take on him cause i am so obsessed with him. banner manga cap colored by moi! plspls let me know what you think of my writing! feedback means a lot (≧◡≦)

You aren’t used to wearing things other than your typical track shorts and t-shirts, never one for fashion or dressing up, though you admire anyone who enjoys that kind of stuff.

But it’s summer, and it’s hot, and you’re at a beach house with some friends. Pulling a cotton shirt and shorts on and off over a wet bathing suit is simply not it, so for this weekend you’ve decided to pack sundresses instead of your usual attire.

It’s been 2 days and all the stares you’ve been getting from the guys are still weird, most of confusion and/or surprise, but there are a couple friends, specifically one infuriating, blond-haired insect of a man, who is very obvious in the way he looks at you, magenta eyes half-lidded, salacious smirk stretching across his lips. It’s maddening, made even worse by the fact that he already knows what you’re hiding under your little sundress.

“The yellow suits you,” Shidou purrs in your ear in the kitchen, and you feel one of his fingers wiggle underneath the thin shoulder strap of your bikini top. “Goes nice with the purple suit.”

“Too bad none of it’s for you,” you grumble, trying not to pay him much attention.

He isn’t so much your ex-boyfriend as much as your ex-mistake, a fuck buddy you had the misfortune of catching feelings for only for him to let you down gently. Or, as gently as someone like Shidou could manage.

I still wanna fuck you, though, he had told you thoughtlessly. It’s better than nothing for you, right?

You had immediately cut things off, both hurt and offended that he just assumed his dick would be enough to keep you around. That you were so desperate for him that you would just take what you could get.

No, you hadn’t quite reached that level of infatuation.

You’re still a little bitter about it, a little embarrassed, but you’re also irritated, especially since he insists on coming onto you even now.

“Who’s it for then, hm?” he asks, bending down enough for his breath to hit your neck. It gives you goosebumps. It also makes you squirm away from him.

“For me. ‘Cause it’s easy and breezy.”

“And beautiful… cover girl,” he quotes. You fight not to laugh. “But really, the dresses look good on you. You should let me take some pictures…” he wiggles his eyebrows. “More for my private collection.”

You make a face of disgust. “Ugh, you haven’t deleted those yet?” The thought of him having all kinds of lewd photos of you both disturbs and excites you. Does that mean he still uses them?

“Why would I delete such quality content?”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you threaten, “if you post those anywhere, I’ll kill you.”

Shidou grins crookedly. “Kinky.”

With an exasperated huff, you walk away.

~*~

Even with crazy, windblown hair and covered in sweat, you can still sense Shidou watching you. It makes your already heated skin burn even hotter.

Currently you’re situated under an umbrella, just scrolling on your phone while all the guys play a game of beach volleyball. If it can even be called that. They should definitely stick to soccer.

You aren’t surprised when Shidou plops down next to you, dusting up some sand so that it powders your bare thighs.

“White today,” he comments, picking at the hem of your short dress.

All you offer is a noncommittal, “mm,” gritting your teeth at the feeling of his fingertips grazing your skin.

“Makes you look innocent,” he continues. “Which we both know is a lie.”

“Shidou, please drop it. Admire from afar if you have to, but—”

“Miss when you used to call me Ryu.” He nuzzles into your shoulder, inhaling deeply, and when you try to shrug him off, you feel his teeth against your skin. He doesn’t bite hard, but it’s enough to anchor him to you.

“Ryu!” you squeal, shoving his face away.

“Just like that,” he grins before mimicking you ‘Ryu’. “Used to scream my name like that when I’d fuck you real good.”

“God, you are insufferable!”

He’s also turning you on, much to your disappointment. Hand slowly slipping under your dress, a small nibble to your earlobe.

“I know all your spots, baby. Just give in. You know you want to.” He’s using that seductive voice that always makes your breath quicken and your eyes dilate. Everything is brighter even with your sunglasses.

“See, you’re already spreading your legs for me.”

He’s right. Your knees aren’t pressed together anymore, leaving a gap between your thighs.

“There are people around, Ryuusei,” you tell him sternly, a last ditch effort to spur his advances.

You aren’t the least bit surprised when his only counter is a petulant, “so?”

His hand slides up further until his fingers brush against your covered pussy, and you bite your lip, ashamed that you’ve let him get to you like this.

“Sand,” you whine. “Don’t want…”

He hums in consideration then turns onto his back, rolling and propelling himself straight to his feet in one fluid motion. Annoying.

“To the showers, then,” he says, pulling you up.

He ignores your mumbling as he leads you to the little shower, on the beach for the purpose of rinsing sand off of sticky bodies. A little blue curtain is all that will block you from view. You’re supposed to keep your bathing suits on after all.

The water pressure isn’t strong, but it is enough to get the sand off both of you. You swear out loud as you pull your bottoms off. The dress is staying on; there’s no way you’re getting entirely naked. Shidou, on the other hand, shamelessly pushes his trunks all the way off, letting them pool on the wooden plans right next to yours.

You gasp when he suddenly spins you around, finding the strings of your top and tugging them loose.

“Get this shit off.”

He yanks the material over your head, turning you to face him again, and groans when he looks down at your chest. With your white dress entirely soaked, your hard nipples show through the sheerness. Shidou immediately starts groping you, his head falling back like he’s already on the verge of cumming just from playing with your tits.

It feels good, his palms rubbing over your sensitive buds before he pinches each one. You’d rather skip the foreplay, though, eager to have something inside you while also nervous about being caught.

To move things along you reach between your legs, running your middle finger between your folds and hating yourself for how wet you are. Like you’d said the other day, water makes a terrible lube, but if you’re already ridiculously slick, it doesn’t really matter.

You slip two fingers into your hole and scissor them apart, well aware that it’d be unwise to take Shidou without any prep. His cock is too pretty, something to be proud of, and he is. It’s thick and long, fat mushroom shaped head perfect for dragging against your walls.

“Yeah, you want it now, don’t ya?” he teases.

“Don’t push your luck.” It’s meant to be a warning, but you’re too breathless for it to have any weight.

Shidou abandons your chest in order to guide your hand away from yourself, replacing it with his own and fucking you with his longer fingers. He hikes one of your legs up, holding it to his hip, and as he stretches you out, he ruts his pelvis forward.

“Okay, I’m good,” you tell him. “I’m good, I’m ready.”

“Oh? Baby girl all cock hungry now?”

“Ryuuu,” you whine, grinding down on his hand.

“Only ‘cause you’re making such pretty sounds for me.”

He grabs your other leg, hoisting you up with the strength gained from years of dedicated workouts. You shift in his grasp until you feel the tip of his cock rub against your cunt. The amount of times the two of you have fucked, you know each others bodies well, and it’s almost second nature for you to guide him into your hole without the use of your hands.

Your mouth hangs open as he slides inside, the muscles in Shidou’s arms straining as he lowers you on his cock. You’re relying on him entirely. He’ll be in control as he supports you, and you’ll be completely helpless.

He doesn’t ask if you’re ready, if you’ve braced yourself, just starts bouncing you up and down. His fingers dig into the fat of your thighs, definitely creating bruises, and you steady yourself by tangling fingers in his hair. He’s so fucking hot like this, water running down his toned frame, blonde strands plastered to his face.

The way that you’re gripping his hair pushes his face into your tits, and Shidou groans like a porn star, lapping up the droplets that cover your chest.

Short moans are forced out if you with every bounce. Hn, hn, hn until Shidou starts moving you more aggressively and your jaw drops. Ah, ah, ah.

“Missed this sweet pussy,” Shidou pants. “Take my dick so good. Think she missed me too.”

You’re not a huge fan of him personifying your literal vagina, but you’re too far gone to chastise him for it. In fact, you agree, nodding and huffing, “I do, I do…”

His thrusts are shallow because of the position, but he still feels so good as he bullies your soft, gummy walls. The way you’re wrapped around him has your hard clit rubbing against his pelvis, the coarse hairs at the base of his cock beginning to rub you raw in a delicious way. You always did like a little pain with your pleasure, and Shidou is amazing at delivering just that.

“Really should open this curtain. Let everyone see how gorgeous you look getting fucked like this.”

“Don’t you dare,” you gasp.

“You sure? You don’t wanna put on a show for the guys? I bet they’d all get jealous.”

“Ryu, please!”

He bites the top of one of your tits then relents, rolling his striking eyes. “Fine.” His thick eyelashes are dripping with water, so pretty. “But only if you cum for me.”

You wouldn’t be able to if he hadn’t been fucking you so perfectly, cockhead massaging your g-spot, clit now overstimulated.

“Think you can do that for me, sweetness?”

You nod. “Are… are you close too?”

“‘’m always close when I’m fucking you,” he tells you. “Just looking at you gets me hard.”

Vulgar but flattering.

“You want me inside? Stuff this pussy full of cum?”

“Nnng, pleeease.”

You shouldn’t let him, shouldn’t reward him after how much he’s annoyed you on this vacation. But you love the feeling of him dripping out of you, thick and warm, enough to spill down your thighs. If you weren’t on birth control, you would never. As it is…

“Alright, cum for me then,” he commands. “Wanna feel your cunt milk me.”

Heat spreads from your pussy to the place between your hips, pooling into your tummy and traveling to your toes.

“Oh god, Ryu,” you sob, “I’m… don’t stop…”

He spreads his legs, squatting slightly so that his thighs can support some of your weight as he quickly rocks back and forth, his fat cock pistoning in and out of your spasming hole.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“m’gonna blow,” Shidou huffs. “Gonna fill you up… take my cum, baby, take all of it.”

It’s a subtle sensation, him spilling inside of you. You can’t feel every individual rope of cum, but you can feel your pussy getting fuller and fuller, stretching you even further. And then, you can feel it begin to leak out of you, coating Shidou’s cock as he pulls out until only his tip remains inside of you.

“Still as good as I remember,” he remarks, lifting you until he slips out of you before setting you back on wobbly legs.

He’s right, unfortunately. The best lay you’ve ever had.

“It was… nice,” you mumble regretfully. “Glad we’re already in a shower.”

“Convenient. Since you always get so messy,” he smirks.

“Because you make me messy.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

You rinse off the slimy fluid dripping down the insides of your legs, retrieve your bathing suit from the ground. The bottoms are easy enough to wiggle back into, but you have to ask Shidou for help with your top.

“You look so good without it, though, he says, but when you cast him a glare, he concedes. “Fine.”

As he ties it back around you, you can’t help but ask, “is it just the sundresses that did it for you? You like them that much?”

“I mean, I do like little dresses like this,” he confirms, trailing his hands down your ribs and pulling you back into him. “But anything you wear gets my dick hard. My jerseys, pajamas, your boring t-shirts n’ shit.”

“Boring but comfy.”

“And still sexy cause you’re the one wearing ‘em.”

Your stomach flutters in a familiar way, butterflies accompanied by dread. “Careful. You’re starting to sound awfully sweet, Ryu.”

You feel him shrug, his arms locked around you and his lips pressed to the skin behind your ear.

“What can I say? I missed you.”

You can’t even formulate a response to that, refusing to get your hopes up. The vacation will be over soon, and Shidou will go back to being a fuckboy. You’re not about to let him hurt you again.

So you shake your head and step out of his arms then bend down to grab his swim trunks off the ground.

“Put your pants back on,” you sigh, and, taking a page out of his book, you leave him with a casualness that you hope will mess with his head in the coming days. Just like this whole encounter is sure to mess with yours.

2023©️shidou-x. please do not plagiarize, edit, or share my work to any other platforms.

#shidou ryuusei x reader #shidou ryuusei smut #shidou x reader #shidou smut #bllk x reader #sundressszncollab

[dearbraus]

— Mirror Mirror on the Wall

Starring; Tartaglia.

Details; 18+ only minors dni + afab reader + mirror sex + dildo use + squirting + excessive use of the nickname “baby” + teasing + slight bratty reader + slight implications of d/s dynamics + praise (receiving) + Tartaglia is referred to as “Ajax”.

Word count; 1.6k

❝ Ajax wants you to see how pretty you look when you cum for him. ❞

The mirror that reflects your image back to you is daunting.

Almost mocking.

You can hardly muster up the courage to allow yourself to meet your own gaze. Trying to peer at the man who sits behind you is strangely even more troubling. His lips are pulled taunt, a devilish smile splayed across his face as he watches you nervously squirm in his warm embrace. Muscular arms kept you trapped and facing the mirror, leaving your legs spread and splayed open for you and him. His broad chest, warm and pressed flush against you. You couldn’t help but shiver, feeling his erection nestled right against the swell of your ass.

Even in the low lamp light, you could see the growing wet spot in your underwear. It made your cheeks burn in mortification; Ajax has hardly even touched you. Teeth and tongue hot against the tender, supple skin of your neck but little else had been lavished upon you. Ajax laps it up, relishing in how little it takes for you to get worked up and keening for more. In truth, it’s less of what he’s doing and more of his mere presence that has you keeled over and flushed with need. 

“You look so pretty, baby,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, teeth tugging at the lobe, “Don’t be shy, take a look and see how pretty you look.”

Nimble fingers slip down your belly, stopping at the elastic band of your underwear as his other hand rests beneath your chin. Ajax tilts your head upward, his grip firm and unwavering even as you try to turn your head to the side. Somehow, seeing the smug expression he wears is worse than feeling it against your supple skin. You lift your hips in an attempt to goad him into delving further beneath the cotton but his hand stills, mouth falling agape as he shakes his head at you. 

“Tell me how pretty you look, then I’ll touch you.”

The whine that sticks at the back of your throat makes it nearly impossible to say anything.

Letting your eyes meet his through the reflection, you offer Ajax a pathetic and helpless expression, “You can do better than that,” He tuts, “Don’t give me those eyes, you hardly even tried.”

Your cheeks puff out in annoyance, this mood of his utterly maddening and you’re sure if you stared long enough, you’d realize that you resembled a petulant brat with the way you huffed at him. 

“I’m so pretty for you.”

Swallowing the breath you didn’t realize you held, you spread your legs a little wider for him, and an expectant gaze shot his way.

“Please Ajax, I need you so bad,” you whined, leaning your head back against his freckled shoulder, “So fuck me, your pretty baby needs to be filled up so badly.”

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it, brat?”

Ajax jokes but he says it like he can read your mind. You suppose in a way he could; you wore your heart on yourself, your thoughts written across your face no matter how hard you tried to hide them. Everything that made you tick was swallowed and memorized by greedy blue eyes. If you were a book you’d be his favourite, your pages would have been splayed out before him, just as he liked it. Nuzzling his nose in the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder, he laughs and it makes his chest rumble, it’s warm and tinged with mirth but it makes you roll your eyes.

“I’m not a brat,” you frowned, breath hitching when he pulls your underwear down, “You’re just mean.”

“Am I?”

You nod, “Just the worst!”

“Oh, you don’t mean that,” he mutters with a disapproving click of his tongue, “You love me!”

His calloused fingertips smoothed down your belly and through the thatch of curls until he landed on your clit. It throbs with need, your breath hitching when he slowly massages a circle into the bud. The tension in your shoulders seeps out as you slump further against his warm, broad chest. His name is nothing but a breathy moan, no malice, or teasing lilt– just needy and warm, it melts across your tongue and lathers across his heart. 

Smoothing his lips across the supple skin of your neck, he peers at you in the mirror through long lashes and strands of pale apricot hair, it glows brighter beneath the warm lamp light that illuminates the room.

“Say you love me, pretty baby.”

Ajax whispers, sweet like candy but the aftertaste is bitter.

You respond with a whimper, back arching in search of something more. The pleasure that trickles up your spine is not enough, the pleasant warmth that envelopes you like a cozy blanket on a bitter winter day but it's not enough. Your body aches to be filled and stretched by him, needs it like your lungs need fresh air to breathe but Ajax keeps an arm wrapped firmly around your belly, holding you firmly against his chest. You take what you’re given until he gets what he wants– your attitude to drop, he loves the rough bite of snarky words and teasing remarks that get the blood pumping beneath his skin but he loves your lovesick coos far more than anything.

“I love you,” you moan, rolling your eyes the moment his gaze darks from your face to your cunt, “And I love the way you fuck me just as much,” you say with a laugh, “How ‘bout you fuck me baby hm?”

“So needy!” He laughs.

“Only for you.”

You can’t stop the whine that escapes you when Ajax slips away from you for a moment, reaching around you to rustle around in the bedside table's top drawer. His eyes light up when he finds just what he’s looking for, holding the dildo up with a flourish.

The bratty whine you’re about to let out is stifled by silicon pressed against your lips, your mouth instinctively falling open. Ajax grimes wickedly, he’s trained you well and you know it. Your tongue lolls across the head, coating it with saliva. He groans at the sight, his hips buckling into the curve of your ass to relieve the ache that’s hallowed out his stomach. Ajax fucks your mouth just enough to get himself even hotter, but you dutifully suck the toy like it’d goad him into giving you just what you wanted.

“That’s it, baby,” he groans, licking his lips, “Get it nice and wet before I fuck you.”

“Mm, but I want you to fuck me!”

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you push the toy away, “I can feel how hard you are Ajax, so c’mon quit the teasing!”

Dragging the wet tip of the toy down your body, Ajax rolls his eyes, “I gotta get you nice and prepped before I fuck you,” he reasons with a grin, “You’ll get your cock baby, just be patient for me.”

Rubbing the dildo through your slick folds, Ajax teases your hole, just barely pushing it in.

“‘Cause your cocks so fuckin’ big huh?” 

“That’s right baby, that's right!” planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek, he slowly pushes the toy into you, “So fuckin’ big your pretty pussy can’t handle it!”

Your eyes roll back into your head and your breath hitches, “Shut up!” 

“Make me!”

You try to laugh but it’s distorted by the greedy gulps of air you suck in, your head feeling light. One hand pumps the toy into you at a painstakingly slow pace while the other massages your clit, sending pinpricks of pleasure up your spine. Any haughty retort you might’ve had died on your tongue and you hate it. The smarmy smirk you know so well reflects back at you through the mirror, taunting you for succumbing so easily.

“Oh? Cat got your tongue sweetheart?” His hot breath fans across the shell of your ear, teeth grazing the lobe, tugging on it just to watch you shiver, “ God, look at your pretty pussy takin’ it so well, wish it was my fuckin’ cock splitting you open like this.”

A flurry of curses slides off your tongue, mingling with the heedy pants that make your chest heave. 

“Oh that's it, feels good huh?”

You nod your head, teeth digging into your plush bottom lip to push down the utterly debauched sounds that claw up your throat. Ajax eats it all up, getting off on how good he makes you feel, gazing intently at the expressions written across your face. 

“So good,” you agree, nodding your head for no real reason other than it pleases him, “Always so good Ajax.”

It comes to you well before you even realize it, pathetically fast and half as satisfying as it should be but all is well when that familiar feeling of bliss washes over you. Your skin is unbearably hot, prickling like live wire as you twitch in his hold. You cunt gushes obscenely around the dildo, squelching with each skillful flick of his wrist. The sheets feel wet beneath your skin, clingingly uncomfortably but you’re too focused on how good it feels for your head to spin in such a delicious haze of pleasure. You hear him chuckle, half shocked but it doesn’t register until his fingernails dig into your chin, forcing your head towards the mirror.

“Oh look at you,” he says, biting back a moan, “Squirting for me like that, think you can do that on my cock?”

“I did?’’

Giving your pussy a pat he cackles wickedly at the way your clit throbs and cunt gushes, a small spurt dribbling out and soaking his hand.

“Sure fuckin’ did. C’mon show me how much better my cock feels than this piece of shit huh”

© all content belongs to dearbraus. do not modify, repost, or redistribute.  

#tartaglia x reader #tartaglia smut #childe smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #ajax x reader #childe x reader #ajax smut #genshin impact smut #gi smut #gi x reader

[yuri-is-online]

Manipulating the Buyers (Rollo Flamm x Yuu)

Intro

notes: they/them used for Yuu, pre-established relationship, Rollo is downbad horrendous and a freak. Not related to my previous Rollo fic, GloMas suggested but not explicitly mentioned; introducing the boyfriend to the family (Crewel) and watching him get hazed by the older brothers (Leona and Vil), and persists in enjoying domestic fluff despite the horrors (magic). More fic can be found on my masterlist here.

"ENOUGH." Crewel shouts loud enough to silence your upperclassmen and send you halfway out of your skin. "Yuu and Grim are being kind enough to let you use there space even after the Headmage was rude enough to refuse to ask them for it. I'm sure all of you are more than competent enough of doing your tasks on your own."

"Won't the prefect be a bit bored if they have to just stand around and just watch?" Asks Trey, completely aware of your ability to entertain yourself. You should be annoyed, but your attention is firmly captured by the buzz of your phone in your uniform pocket.

"Grim and I can take tickets." You smile as the familiar contact asks if you are out of classes yet, and available to talk.

[you] something came up sorry ….. ( 〃．．)ﾉ [you] nothing bad! i'll text you when it's over ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

"Oh that would be so cute!" Cater cheers immediately turning towards an equally as excited Idia. "We should totally dress him up, oh do you want to be samsies Yuu? Or should we make your outfit unique?"

[my flamme] Good to hear that there's nothing wrong. Please take your time, I suspect your "something" might be related to something I want to talk to you about. [my flamme] Also nothing bad.

"Hmmm I don't mind leaving that up to you guys!" You tuck your phone against your chest and try to to appear too eager to get away. Vil's raised eyebrow suggests he doesn't completely believe you. "I mean, you guys have a theme you're going with right? If you really want me to pick stuff out I'll need guidelines."

"There won't be any need for that," you're really glad Epel isn't here right now to get any schadenfreude from Vil's strict smile being aimed at someone who isn't him "why we can just decide on your outfit right now can't we? Your classes are over for the day so you have no where to go. Isn't that right?"

~~~~

"And then he made me try on every single suit Crewel owns." Your voice is muffled by your pillows in a position Rollo thinks looks comfortable, but prevents him from fully seeing your face. Thankfully you have mercy on him and turn towards him, adjusting your phone with a smile that makes his heart flutter slowly away from his previous aggravations towards something practically domestic. "And didn't pick out a single one! Can you believe it, I haven't told anyone anything but I swear he knows. Vil's worse than Rook sometimes I swear."

"Did you like any of them?" He's wondered about what you would look like in things other than the uniform Crowley provided you, (ashamedly Noble Bell's uniform had been at the forefront of his mind) the worn gym clothes you used as pajamas didn't give him much insight into your personal sense of style. You close your eyes in thought and Rollo moves you closer to his chest, he wishes he was as relaxed with this as you. He wished he had the strength to lay with his phone next to him in his bed and pretend you were there with him, but even sitting next to the fireplace in the Student Council Room is almost too much for him.

"They were a bit stuffy. And stupid formal." You sound so tired, Rollo almost feels bad for keeping you awake.

"I bet they looked nice."

"Yeah Vil didn't let me take any pictures sorry." Rollo almost chokes at the implication of his asking and you laugh as he coughs and decides to change the subject.

"Oh that's fine." He had been so caught up in asking about your day he had almost forgotten what it was he wanted to speak with you about. That should annoy him, this maddening peace you inspire in him is dangerous, he is at risk of being well and truly content with his place in the world. "I'll get a chance to see anyway." He is rewarded for his patience with a smile so radiant he loses his ability to breath.

"You're coming to the Culture Fair?" You sound so excited.

"Your Headmage specifically invited our student council." Rollo had technically known about this for months, he had suspected that would prove longer than you had known about it but for you to have just learned today angered him intensely. Worry knits its way across your face and that anger softens, he thinks he knows you well enough to make some assumptions. "You don't need to worry about leaving your duties to spend time with me, I fully intended to plan things around your schedule." He whispers softly and you relax slightly. "I'm more than capable of entertaining myself when you aren't around."

"That's not really what I'm worried about..." It was certainly part of it though. The thought of having your boyfriend come all the way from the Shaftlands to Sage's Island and not getting to see him once drove you mad and you didn't have nearly the same amount of faith in Crowley's scheduling that Rollo seems to. "I don't want to have to break up any fights."

"...allow me to rephrase my statement, I am more than capable of behaving myself." Rollo says firmly, and you sigh to yourself. It's not him you are worried about, at least not primarily. No matter how reasonable he thinks he is, Rollo is just as capable of being problematic as your classmates. "And as nice as I'm sure Night Raven College is-" It's a school filled with mages so he doubts it is all that nice, but it's the only home you have known here and Rollo has no desire to be impolite. "I would like to spend some time with you alone and I could see that being... difficult on campus." He isn't wrong.

"Do you know where you're staying? I haven't spent a ton of time off campus so I won't be the best tour guide." You move towards your desk to jot down what Rollo has to say and feel yourself warm when you see his affectionate smile.

"That's fine. I've been thinking about how nice it would be to explore a new place with you. And now I get to do it much sooner that I expected." How this man doesn't think he's romantic is beyond you.

~~~~

Craneport is nothing like the City of Flowers but Rollo thinks it has a certain charm to it. For a city so close to a school for mages there are a lot of normal people here, different in attitude than his home but still charming; Rollo likes it here. Exploring this place with you will be worth it, all he has to do is make through today.

"Ah! Mr. Flamm! So good of you to have accepted my most generous invitation-" The headmage badgers on as Rollo takes a deep breath of his handkerchief, the man is somehow more insufferable in person than over the phone or through your stories, a truly impressive feat if nothing else. Rollo barely manages to extract himself from the Headmage's blubbering to explore the cultural fair. It isn't... unimpressive he supposes. There is a disgusting amount of magic on display, but he manages to find small shows of genuine craftsmanship too. He finds himself pleasantly surprised at the student Cafe, the school's botanical gardens provide a feel unlike the cafe's back at home and provide a pleasant degree of privacy from the rest of the school. The snacks on offer are different too, there are no croissants or cheeses, instead the students are offering different types of cake and a few buns. You did say you were only taking tickets, surely your professors wouldn't mind if you took a brief break to eat something? Or maybe they would allow him to bring something to you, he forgets if you mentioned anything about whether or not you had explained who he was to anyone other than Trein. Not that he's nervous about speaking to any of your other professors, he's certain he can make a good argument to any mage for why-

"Roi du Mouchior!" It's all Rollo can do to not snatch up his handkerchief and give Hunt the satisfaction of seeing him live up to that abominable nickname, opting instead to press his nails into his palm. "How splendid! I had wondered if we would see you here, our prefect's improved mood makes much more sense now, no?" The irritating git turns towards a tall, well presented man who is making a great deal of use of the extra height his heels give to look down in judgement on Rollo with in a keen appraisal that would cause lesser men to keel.

"Oh?" The voice, not the appearance is what triggers Rollo's memory, he can't say he doesn't know who Vil Schoenheit is, he's not wholly unaware of current cultural trends, and he remembers your anecdotes that suggest friendship, he just wasn't expecting to actually meet the man. He hadn't really wanted to meet with anyone other than you. "I was aware Yuu was looking forward to something... but I was under the impression it was exciting and not antique."

"... I don't believe we have been introduced." Rollo does take a breath of his kerchief's potpourri at that comment, Hunt is already abominably difficult to read, but he doesn't suppose he had told Schoenheit the truth, not when Draconia had been the one to suggest the cover up. There were more clever ways to call someone an attempted murderer anyway and he supposes that comment was likely aimed at his uniform. "I am Rollo Flamme, the Noble Bell College Student Council President. I am also Yuu's partner." Schoenheit raises an eyebrow.

"I see." He says. "Vil Schoenheit, Dorm Leader of Pomefiore among other things." And that is all as Vil excuses himself and Rook back towards where Rollo doesn't know but supposes he will soon enough. Briefly, shamefully, his heart stutters as he thinks over the interaction. He hasn't been... forthcoming about your relationship with his peers, it simply is none of their business, but he never said anything to discourage you from doing so. But he also hadn't asked if you had... or wanted to do so, Rollo certainly hopes he hasn't crossed a line even if he finds himself strangely exhilarated to stand and just be honest about how he feels. His eyes dart back to the display before him as softer thoughts soothe the flames of disgust.

Shortcake is always a safe bet he thinks. These ones are exceptionally portable and come in convenient pairs.

~~~~

"Thanks for coming, please enjoy the show!" You give your best scary monster claws alongside Grim and smile wide as the guests giggle at your cuteness and shuffle along to their doom, holding the pose till they leave and letting it collapse in a sigh of relief.

"Man this is annoyin'." Huffs Grim. "Why do ya think they keep squealing whenever I hit em with my monster moves?! s' not like I'm cute, I'm really scary!"

"It's a real mystery." You say with the cadence of someone really pushing for that Oscar nomination. Only to be interrupted someone with the tact of an oncoming freight train.

"It's cause it's not good." Leona slams himself into your chair before you can sit back down, blatantly ignoring both your and Grim protests in favor of continuing to insult your companion. "No one in their right name would be afraid of a puff ball."

"I ain't a puffball!" Puffs Grim. "And you're supposed to be in the Grave Yard! Whatdya think Vil is gonna say if he finds out you're here!" Leona shrugs.

"Probably something about how ugly Yuu's boyfriend is." Leona's signature smug smile comes out as soon as he sees the tell tale signs of your embarrassment fluttering through your body language. "Oh? Here I thought he was joking, don't tell me some bullshit about how you think he's attractive everyone says that."

"But I do?" You protest on instinct noticing much too late the sound of approaching footsteps behind you and simply choose bringing consequences you simply choose not to turn around and face. "I'm not going to say I don't I like him!"

"I'm more concerned you didn't say anything at all." A very not mad just disappointed and this is so much worse looking Crewel stands, fiddling with his riding crop in a way that makes you break just a bit of a sweat. "Was there a specific reason you didn't think to mention you had a boyfriend?" You didn't think Crewel's voice could crack and yet here it is in full view of you (who is terrified) and Leona (having the time of his life.)

"Yuu didn't think it was none of your business." Huffs Grim, sealing your fate somewhere six feet under. "I mean whatdya gonna do? Nothin good!"

"What I mean is-" you try.

"Nah I think it's pretty clear what ya mean." Cackles Leona. "I'm impressed, didn't think ya had it in you to hide something this big." Of all the times for the big cat to decide to have a bit of energy, why's he wasting it on teasing you? "Would have assumed you'd wanna blabber your little feelings all over the place."

"I would have hoped," it might just be you but Crewel sounds almost... sad, it's making you feel sort of bad "that you felt comfortable enough to talk about your feelings. With someone anyway."

"I mentioned it to Ace and Deuce." You say quietly and a little of his typical confidence returns to Crewel.

"Good." He says without a hint of irony. "So long as someone is there for you in case something goes wrong." You wonder if it would be wise to mention that to your friends or if it would make them too insufferable.

"You hear that?" Leona smiles. "You're on notice herbivore." A cough makes you realize he wasn't talking to you

Rollo says nothing, a little box you recognize as being from the Science Club's pop up cafe. What you do not recognize is your boyfriend, he isn't wearing his Noble Bell Uniform, though you think you recognize a similar style to the button up underneath his sweater, his giant uniform hat is missing too. He ignores Leona and simply gives you a reassuring smile before turning to Crewel with the more familiar serious look on his face.

"I'm sorry for causing worry, Yuu speaks very highly of you and I would never encourage them to keep a secret from you." His smooth manner of speaking bores Leona, but doesn't fully impress Crewel.

"I am glad to hear that." He says in complete monotone.

"You here to visit your other herbivore?" Leona asks, still here and not in his place for some reason. "We're using Ramshackle Dorm so sorry you aren't gonna get to be alone." Your search for a suitably blunt object to smack him with is interrupted by Rollo asking a very simple question.

"That's your dorm?" Everything stops. You swear you can hear the screams and faint music from the inside as Leona, Crewel, and even Grim seem to have forgotten how to breathe. Rollo's eyes narrow on the shape of the house, scanning the windows and dipping into the carved stone accents with a severity you think could scorch, yet not once does he move to settle himself or take a deep breath. "It has a certain charm to it I suppose... those tombstones are a very impressive bit of prop work."

"Um do you mind if I take my break now?" You don't wait for an answer and seize Rollo's hand and Grim's paw and book it for the hills behind Ramshackle.

~~~~

"Just so we're clear I still intend to take you on a proper date while I'm here." Rollo sits stiff, not wanting to put the brunt of his back against the trees around you but still clearly enjoying the quiet. "And I do want to see the inside of your dorm... preferably after hours." You wiggle your eyebrows at him and he boops your nose affectionately, surprisingly non pulsed at your silent suggestions. "I have no real interest in gauging the special effects skills of your magical classmates, I am interested in where they are trying to house you."

"I mean I think it's nice?" You certainly like the vibe of it, and the ghosts take good care of you where they can.

"It could be better I guess." Grim sounds happy as he says that, probably because Rollo remembered to bring him food as well (even if he had claimed it was just to shut him up.) "But it's ours y'know? I get to set all the rules and we get to pick the decor! None of the other guys get to do that."

"Would you decorate your house like your dorm?" Rollo reaches out for your hand and pulls you closer, finally leaning back against the tree content with how you lean onto his shoulder. "Hopefully without the tombstones in the yard... assuming they are as real as your reactions suggests."

"I don't know..." Both the answer to that question and the reasons for the grave in your current front yard. "W-why do you ask?"

"For now? I just want to know what sort of things you like because I enjoy hearing about them." And yet Rollo says no more, taking out his phone and moving the conversation to Craneport and the various shops he saw on his way to the school. For now it's an easy enough phrase to ignore, but then Rollo has always been one for implications. For the future, he wants to know what sort of place you would want to buy. He thinks it would be nice to leave the decision to you.

Taglist: @nothingfuninthislife

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #rollo flamme x reader #originally i intended to have him go through the haunt w yuu and have the boys haze him #still might write that at some point but i want this fic done and dusted so i can work on other stuff #because you know they would :/ #“oh yuu's bf? from another school?” #“shame we all forgot our lines and had to improvise”

[skiller0dani]

The Noble House of Gaunt | Part 2

M A S T E R L I S T Other Masterlist Harry Potter Masterlist

angst | slytherin!reader requests info w.c | 3.1k summary | Sebastian is determined to make Ominis see reason, even if it means doing something Ominis told him specifically not to do.

Genuine question, I've been seeing some Sebastian smut on Tumblr but haven't seen any for Ominis. If I dabbled in smut for Ominis, is this something that would make people uncomfortable? I threw in a tiny bit of spice into this one, just to see how it's received.

Part 1 | Part 3 | Blurb

You were determined to make it through the entire day without falling apart. It had been nearly a month since Ominis broke up with you, and while you weren't trying to keep track it was hard to forget the day your heart was ripped out. Thankfully you hadn't seen Ominis with any other girls, you don't think your heart could bear the sight. You've also seen Sebastian trailing after Ominis the last few weeks, you hope they've made up. The thought of Sebastian being all alone hurts your heart, but worse than that imagining Ominis on his own made your chest tighten. You know you shouldn't care how he's feeling after what he did, but you do. You can't help it, you love him.

Truthfully, the last few weeks have felt odd. You swore you caught someone eyeing you from afar multiple times, and there were moments in class where the hairs on the back of your neck rose- as if someone was watching you. You felt like you were slowly getting paranoid, perhaps being hunted by Ranrok and Rookwood for the entirety of 5th Year had some lasting effects.

You tried not to think about Ominis, but he was starting to worry you. He's spent most of the last month stalking around the halls looking like a ticking time bomb, his jaw clenched and a rather unfriendly expression on his face. Most of the school knew you two had broken up, being the Hero of Hogwarts unfortunately more people than you were comfortable with knew your business. People avoided Ominis in the corridors more than they usually did, turning and scurrying away at the sight of him. He'd been far more snappy than usual, especially with poor Sebastian who seemed to be receiving the brunt of Ominis's anger. Yet he continued to trail after Ominis everywhere he went, you wondered why.

Nighttime was the worst, when you would close your eyes and drift off into a dream you didn't want to wake up from. Dreams of Ominis plagued you. You'd dream of you two lying in a meadow somewhere, book in your hand as you read to him like you used to. He'd eventually push the book out of your hands, slowly lowering his lips onto yours. You'd feel the heat of his body, the feel of his hands running down your side. He'd press his forehead against yours when he needed to part for air, and the second you'd taken a few deep breathes you would pull him in to kiss you again. Life felt perfect, the beautiful flowers, the warm summer breeze.

Then you'd wake up, and be in your bed in the dungeons. It was pure agony.

However, being awake was almost worse. At least in a dream you could allow yourself to get lost in the fantasy for a while. Trick your subconscious into believing the dream was real, that everything else was just a nightmare. Life felt like a nightmare, you wished you knew when this pain would end. Or at least get easier, but each second feels harder than the last. You can't believe he did this to you, and you want to be angry so bad but you miss him so much. You long desperately for him, and it outweighs any anger you may harbor towards him. You're silently crying out for him, he's the only one for you.

You wondered if he missed you, if he regret what happened...or if he just regret even being with you. He was so damn good at masking his emotions it was almost maddening trying to figure him out. He always looked indifferent, or irritated. Most of the times you'd caught him looking irritated, Sebastian was somewhere nearby. You wondered if Sebastian took Ominis's anger without complaint to punish himself, his own way of making amends. You know Ominis still cares for Sebastian, he wouldn't be so cross with him if he didn't. You hoped he still cared for you like you cared for him.

You feel pathetic, Ominis ripped your heart out and yet here you are yearning for him like a lovesick school girl. You've thought about talking to him, trying to mend your relationship to the point of friendship at least. But he's completely shutting you out, won't go anywhere near you and somehow he always knows you're in the room even though he can't see. You cannot possibly fathom what you did to make him hate you so much, you just wanted him back.

Ominis had just about had enough with Sebastian's incessant nagging. Ominis had believed he made it clear to Sebastian that he didn't care for his company and yet Sebastian would not leave him alone. He mostly talked about you, bugged Ominis to tell you the truth. To apologize, to fix your relationship. Sebastian doesn't understand, for your safety Ominis can't fix your relationship, he must leave it broken. He thought of you often, all day every day in fact. Thought of the sound of your laugh, his favorite sound in the whole world. Thought of your surprised gasp when he whispered something far too inappropriate to say out loud. He wished he could see your face flush, but hearing you shift and wriggle in your chair was enough to satisfy him.

"Ominis you can't continue like this. You're being cruel, surely your family will give up on this eventually-"

"You underestimate their hatred for Muggleborns."

"No I'm pretty sure I don't, I think you underestimate our ability to keep her safe." Sebastian stated firmly.

"We're two 16 year old's, how on Earth could we keep her safe?" Ominis fired back.

"Y/N and I literally took down a troll last year, multiple times! Not to mention the fact that she singlehandedly faced Ranrok and prevailed..." Sebastian trailed off, watching Ominis's expression shift from annoyed to irritated.

"Not to mention, her and Natty dismantled Harlow's empire by themselves."

"Sebastian-"

"And her and Poppy saved a dragon from an undercover dragon fighting ring filled with poachers who were actively hunting them."

"Sebastian enough!" Ominis snapped, his voice raising. His family is far more viscous than any one of those people. They would make it personal, torture her slowly. They'd humiliate her while they did it, and Ominis didn't even want to consider what Marvolo's idea of 'playing' was. The thought made a red haze of anger surround him, he quickly shook the thought away. No, this was safer.

"I am never going to tell her the truth, and neither will you. I love her, don't you understand that? What would you do for the woman you love? I will give up having a future with her to ensure that she even gets a future at all." Ominis said firmly, his tone unwavering. Sebastian watches dejectedly as Ominis walks away and he knows that Ominis is never going to change his mind. He could never convince Ominis of anything anyway, the only person who ever got through to him was you. You're the only reason Sebastian found the Scriptorium at all, and Ominis still hasn't forgiven Sebastian for even suggesting the idea of using the Cruciatus curse on you. Sebastian knew that you would have to cast it on him, or else Ominis would never forgive him for as long as he lives.

Ominis cannot be convinced because he is being driven by love, and it's only love that could change his mind. Sebastian knows what he has to do, but he knows doing so will dash any chance at Ominis ever forgiving him. Sebastian wants you two to be happy, Ominis needs you. So he'll give up any chance of getting his best friend back, if it means he gets to make his best friend happy. He needs to tell you the truth, whether Ominis liked it or not.

Ominis had already endured 3 more visits from his Mother, who cared about this more than his Father and Marvolo did. She was obsessed with the idea of controlling Ominis, of him being her perfect little boy filled with cruelty and hatred like his siblings. He was far too kind for her liking, and she blamed it on you. You softened his heart, crawled in like a disease and poisoned him. For that, she is simply itching at the chance to make you pay. Ominis has barely been able to hold her back, emotionlessly convincing her you're not worth her energy. Y/N is too high risk, he'd tell her. Someone will notice if she goes missing. Luckily his mother seemed to believe him so far but he wasn't sure how long he could keep her away.

He knew she lingered around, and it worried him how easily she could get into the school. If she could get in that easy, she could get to you quite easily. Whenever she wanted. It put Ominis in a constant state of panic. Why did he have to fall in love with you? When is he ever going to learn that as long as he is a Gaunt, he will never truly be free. He wished he was, he so desperately longed for you. For your touch, your warmth, the soft kisses you'd give him in the late hours of the night.

It was well past the hours he should be in bed and yet Ominis sat in the common room, on that couch in front of the fireplace you two spent ample time. He heard your footsteps approaching, and he always knew it was you. You carefully approached him, noticing that for once he isn't practically running to get away from you. Maybe he's beginning to forgive you for whatever it is you did to wrong him. You know he was lying when he said there was another, you would have seen her with him by now. But the person he's spent the most time with was Sebastian.

"Can we talk? Please?" You asked softly, fulling expecting him to harshly turn you away. Much to your surprise he gives you a small nod, sliding over to give you space to sit next to him. You carefully lower yourself on the couch next to him, admiring his side profile shamlessly. He was beautiful in every way, though you noticed dark bags under his eyes. He looked paler than usual as well, nearly sickly.

"You're staring." He quipped, making your cheeks burn as you avert your eyes. Somehow he always knew when you were admiring him, you swear it has something to do with his wand.

"Um, I just wanted to apologize." You whisper, catching him entirely off guard. You want to apologize to him?

"What on Earth for?" Ominis asks incrediously, the fact that you believe you did something wrong is ludicrous.

"I know you aren't seeing anyone else Ominis, and yet you broke up with me. I must have done something wrong, something unforgivable to upset you. So I'm sorry, my love I'm so sorry. Please I can't take this anymore, I need us to be okay-"

"My heart, you didn't do anything wrong." Ominis can't stop himself, hearing your voice thicken with tears has him leaning forward. His hands cup your cheeks, brushing away tears with his thumbs. You were so close he could feel your labored breathing fanning over his face. He shouldn't be doing this, he should not be doing this. But he can't stop. With you he is entirely out of control, and he closes the gap between you with fervor. You sigh contentedly against his lips, the sound making heat simmer in his lower belly. You press yourself against him tighter, your hands landing on his shoulders. You want to slide onto his lap, to rock against him and paw at his robes until they have all been removed. But Ominis pulls away all too soon, running a stressed hand through his hair as he stands.

"My love I wish I could make you understand but I can't. We can't be together, not now...not ever. I'm sorry, this- this can never happen again." Ominis gasps, looking upset with himself. Your chest tightens, you want so badly to know why he's doing this. Something happened the day he broke up with you, something that scared him so bad he pushed you as far as he could.

"Ominis please don't-" but he is already walking away. Already halfway to his dorm room. You feel tears burning your eyes as you collapse onto the couch. You rest your head in your hands, softly crying.

Sebastian was determined to fix this. He had spent most of the previous night holding you while you cried, insisting that Ominis still loves you- that he was doing this because he loves you. He can't stand by as your heart breaks, he can't do nothing and bothering Ominis about it isn't working. So he was heading to the astronomy tower, where you spent quite a bit of time stargazing. He climbed the stairs and sure enough there you were, with Amit's old telescope, gazing up at the sky. Sebastian needed to tell you the truth, because it was obvious Ominis wasn't going to.

"Y/N? There's something I need to tell you." Sebastian says, cutting right to the chase. You turn in surprise, waiting patiently for him to continue.

"I know the real reason Ominis broke up with you." He starts, effectively catching your attention. You lean against the railing, so that's what he's been talking to Ominis about recently.

"Do you remember what I told you last year, about Ominis's family?"

You nod.

"They visited him the day he broke up with you, threatened to torture you if he didn't end it. His Mother has been visiting him this past month, constantly checking to make sure he doesn't get back together with you." Sebastian explained and suddenly it all made sense. Fear also struck you, you're a Muggle. You know what his family does to Muggles and so does Ominis- nobody knows it better than Ominis. That's why he's been pushing you away, why he's been avoiding you, why he said there was another. This whole time he's been protecting you.

"Oh Ominis..." Your voice trails off sadly, you love him so much. More than words could describe. You need to find him, now.

"Where is he?" You ask Sebastian, who has a sly smile making it's way onto his face.

"He might be torturing himself in the library trying to avoid you..." He trails off, fighting off a grin as you rush down the stairs leaving your telescope behind. He'll make sure to grab it for you and give it back later.

You run through the castle, trying to get to the library as fast as you can. You love that idiot and nothing he does will change that. He may stay away to keep you safe but you'd rather die than live an entire lifetime without him. Being without him is worse than death, worse than the Cruciatus curse. You fly down the stairs to the library, noticing it's mostly dark and deserted- save for a flicker of light coming from the top level. Your heart flutters in your chest, Ominis. You immediately make your way up the winding stairs and towards the light, where you see Ominis reading a braille book with a candle lit next to him. Hearing footsteps behind him causes Ominis to stand, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Y/N?" He could tell it was you by the scent of your strawberry shampoo. You barely give Ominis a chance to understand what's going on when you lightly shove him backwards against the bookcase. His bodyweight lands on the small desk built into the bottom of the shelf and you step between his legs, pressing your lips against his suddenly. His hands find your hips, holding them tightly against his. Your lips move languidly against his, moaning softly when you firmly press your body against his. You have been longing for him, your body yearning for him for so long that you feel nearly ravenous.

Ominis's hand slides around your back as you continue to kiss him, one of your hands trailing down the front of his body to palm him through his pants. Ominis gasps sharply, pulling back from you. Feeling your warm body pressed tightly against his, your hips shifting against his to generate friction, was nearly too much for him.

"What are you-"

"Sebastian told me the truth Ominis. I know why you broke up with me." You whisper, pressing your forehead against his. You eye his lips, you want to feel them on you everywhere.

Sebastian, has he ever been capable of keeping a damn secret?

"My love then you know why we can't be together." He says softly, running a hand through your hair.

"We haven't been doing a very good job at that Ominis..." You tease lightly, reveling in the light chuckle he lets out.

"We were doing fine until you pounced on me like a wild animal." A teasing grin was on his face, it made your insides turn molten.

"You started it! In the common room, remember?" You ask him tenderly, and he nods with a smile.

"How could I ever forget?" He whispers, his lips ghosting over yours, which you don't think he did intentionally. It set your insides ablaze anyway. You try to press your lips against his again, but his hands hold you back.

"Ominis please." You beg shamelessly, it nearly tips him over the edge. Your voice sounds so desperate and needy, he's never heard you sound like this before. It's driving him crazy.

"Sweetheart, we can't." He insists, hearing you whine in frustration.

"I don't care about your stupid family Ominis, I love you. I want to be with you regardless of the danger. I need you please..." You beg again, feeling a heartbeat from between your thighs. You've never needed him more than you do right now.

"I love you too darling, but we still can't right now. Not until I've had a chance to get rid of my Mother." He explains and you swear you could cry. He can feel the heat from between your legs, can feel your hammering heartbeat.

"You can't leave me in this condition, that would be so cruel." You whine, and Ominis laughs lightly.

"I'm sorry my love, I'll make it up to you soon I promise." Ominis presses a long kiss to your lips, and you try to deepen it- to entice him to stay with you until you're whining and cumming around him. But he doesn't, he pulls away and gently moves you off him. He gives you a smile before raising his wand and rushing down the stairs, presumably to find his Mother. You smile to yourself, you're just happy to have him back.

He was right about one thing, both you and Sebastian have seriously underestimated how passionately Ominis's Mother hates Muggles.

TAGLIST: @abbiesxox

#ominis gaunt #ominis x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy spoilers #angst #breakup angst

[raayllum]

happy pride month featuring. demisexual rayla and mayhaps some aro spec vibes too

Rayla has never really felt the stirrings, before, as other elves call it.

 Her training ramps up when she’s twelve, but the other kids her age are starting to be consumed by crushes, blushing and making fools of themselves unnecessarily. It’s hard to understand, and even more annoying to watch. Can’t they just focus on what needs to be done? They’re the future warriors, defenders and protectors, of their village. They don’t have time for silliness, never mind the time consuming foolishness that comes with often short lived romantic (or even sexual) entanglements she sees the older assassins in training partake in. 

She supposes she’s just much more mature than they are. It’s the only explanation. 

Then she meets Callum. 

It’s not that they suddenly start, exactly — but for the first time, it feels like there’s potential for them to. How else is she supposed to explain this want to always be close to him, unable to resist from placing her hands on his shoulders, getting all up in his face as she teases him with her human impression? This maddening need to see him smile, to lift his spirits on the rare occasion he’s the downtrodden one (a situation that becomes less and less rare once he learns the truth about his father)? The racing of her heart and incessant thoughts in her mind that she can’t lose him, her fingers hesitantly touching his cheek, because she’s felt so many things since she ran away with two human princes and a dragon egg, but this — this is something else. 

His hand in hers makes sparks buzz in her chest, their interlaced fingers before the blind Sol Regem wholly for their own benefit. Her heart feels like it’s about to burst out of her chest with fondness and affection when she catches him blushing, when she catches him staring at her the way she imagines she’s been staring at him for quite a while now.

Once the embarrassment of the Oasis has faded, Rayla curls into his arms that cool night on the back of the ambler, and lets herself chase that warmth, a blanket draped over their laps and his lips firm against hers.

They explore a little more at the Nexus and the castle—kissing in dark alcoves and pressed against walls, pulling him close by his scarf, exploring more confidently the further they go, as far as his shirt being off one unbearably hot summer night, anyway.

Then she leaves, and is achingly cold. 

It’s not as though there are no offers while she’s away. The pubs and inns she frequents as she crosses through Xadia, when she can afford to and when camping isn’t an option, are home to many travellers looking for a good time. When she breaks her leg falling from a stupid tree, the clerk at the apocathery is very sweet, and asks if she’d stay a little longer once she’s healed up. His eyes are so green it’s almost tempting, but Rayla knows what she knows, and especially knows her heart.

There’s no one else. There never will be.

The jitters grow worse the closer she gets to Katolis when she finally turns around, Stella doing her best to soothe her nerves to little avail. 

She misses his birthday by one night and spends most of the next day crying, pacing outside the city walls till it’s almost nightfall. What will he say? What will he do? How has he changed, and what if he hasn’t? What if he still...

She climbs through his window, catching sight of the back of him first—broader, taller, with shorter, spikier hair swooped to one side—and then he turns around, gasping.

Still her Callum.

Boom. Stirrings. 

She spends most of the night admiring him once he’s relaxed enough to fall asleep, basking in the fact she’s by his side again, that she can do this—that he didn’t leave.

She thinks of the time one of the other Moonshadow kids had made a face when she didn’t have a crush on anyone, calling her strange.

Runaan had taken her aside and explained that sometimes, falling in love works differently for people, if they fall in love at all. That it was the same for him with Ethari. “Sometimes you fall in love only once,” he’d said.

She watches the way the sun catches Callum’s hair, illuminating a face that’s only grown more handsome since she left. In spite of everything, or perhaps precisely because of everything, she smiles.

This is it.

#aspec rayllum #headcanons #rayllum #happy pride 🌈 #ace tag #asexuality #tdp #my fic #fic #ficlet #tdp rayla #pining!rayla #arc 1 #arc 2 #canon compliant #the dragon prince

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 25

Clark Kent + Musk/Sweat

I am not dead, I just needed a few days since I wrote so much last month. This features some of my kryptonian headcanons, since I can’t help myself. Reader is a fellow hero in this.

 Kinktober list

Clark felt disgusting, like a creep or a weirdo. Why was he feeling this way? Well, it was because he was digging through Y/Ns laundry. It was more like all the of leagues dirty laundry, everyday clothes, hero suits or what the kryptonian was mostly hoping for, used workout clothes. Ever since he had met Y/N Clark had been so taken with the other man. A deep yearning and need had rooted itself in Clark’s chest and had never left since, it seemed to actually have gotten worse over the years.

He had discovered his obsession with the other wants scent one day when Clark had hidden himself away in the league’s laundry room. It had been a weeklong mission and Clark had not been able to find anywhere private to masturbate, and because of his kryptonian genes it had gotten uncomfortable after a few days of no release. After getting off, Clark had grabbed a random piece of fabric that was gonna be washed anyways to dry himself off.

That’s when he caught the scent, it made his knees weak, and he had to grab the wall not to collapse. He had immediately hardened again, which wasn’t unusual since he really had no rest period between orgasms, but when he started dripping without even touching himself, he couldn’t help but pull the fabric to his nose. Clark swore his vision went white for a second as he inhaled deeply, the scent filling all his senses as his cock jerked and shot cum against the wall without any need to touch himself.

After getting off a couple more times with an almost maddening need, Clark had finally calmed down enough to check just who’s laundry he had grabbed. When it turned out to be Y/Ns hero suit, the one he had worn almost all week during the mission the kryptonian had gone red with embarrassment and had quickly cleaned up and fled the scene.

Every single time he got off after that he thought of Y/N, his body, his scent. It always had Clark finishing quicker than normal, spraying white all over himself and his hand and leaving him panting. No orgasm had been as good as when he was inhaling the other man’s scent, so though it made Clark feel ashamed, he started sneaking Y/Ns laundry from the leagues wash. He always returned it before it could be missed, his face flustered and abdomen tingly.

It turned out that Clark wasn’t as sneaky as he had hoped during all his past thefts, as the door to the laundry room shut with a snap. Turning around Clark found Y/N, in nothing but his workout clothes. A pair of baggy shorts that hung low on his hips, and a tight black tank top that sculpted against his torso. Clark could see sweat glistening on his skin, the scent brushing against Clarks sensitive senses causing the man to have to clench his thighs together to hope and hide any obvious sign that it was affecting him.

Clark tried to avert his gaze and act normal, as if he was just sorting the mess that was the league’s laundry as he kept his eyes anywhere but on the man of his deepest desires. The kryptonian was so busy trying not to stare or let his body show just how much the man’s sweaty scent was affecting him, that he didn’t notice Y/N slink his way over and lean his body against Clarks back. Clark froze as the other mans sweaty arms wrapped around him, the kryptonian gulping the spit that was gathering in his mouth as he tried to stutter out asking that the other man was doing.

Y/N chuckled softly, “You think I haven’t noticed Clark?” he asked, voice thick with lust and want as he pressed himself further against Clarks back, his crotch rubbing against the other mans behind where the kryptonain could feel he was half hard. Going even more red Clark ducked his head and tried to apologize, tears gathering in his eyes as shame almost swallowed him whole, his own cock giving an interested twitch as it started hardening.

Hearing how wobbly and distraught Clark sound, Y/N was quick to turn the other man around and kiss him, telling him that he wasn’t mad and was actually extremely flattered. He had even planned a surprise for Clark, which had the kryptonians attention though he was still embarrassed. Stepping back Y/N leant against one of the walls of the laundry room, smirking at Clarks eyes followed him closely. Then Y/N lifted one of his arms, placing his hand behind his head and exposing his armpit, the post workout musk hitting Clarks senses like a drug.

His knees grew weak as heat filled him, Clark whimpering softly as his eyes fluttered. When Y/N beckoned him closer Clark could almost not stay upright as he stumbled over, his hands coming up to grasp the other mans hips. His mind cleared enough for him to feel embarrassed again, meeting Y/Ns eyes who just gave him an encouraging smile, his pupils blown wide with lust and need.

Finally throwing his shame to the wind Clark leant in to bury his nose into Y/Ns sweaty pit, the musky scent making Clarks eyes roll back into his head as he almost desperately stuck out his tongue and started licking. Y/N groaned as Clark started licking and sucking at his armpit like a starved man, his length growing fully hard and heavy in the confines of his shorts. The kryptonian moaned as the smell and taste of Y/Ns sweat had him cumming, his thighs quivering as the crotch of his clothes grew soaked by his fluids.

This kept up until the pit was licked clean, where Clark moved onto the other one much to Y/Ns delight. Y/N was impressed at just how much Clark could cum, and just from his scent and taste alone, as a puddle of white started gathering by their feet. When there was nothing more to taste, Clark found himself resting against the other man’s chest, looking up at him with pupils so large they almost swallowed the blue of his eyes. Y/N ran his hands through Clark’s hair, leaning down to press a kiss to the kryptonians forehead who whimpered and tried to lean in closer.

Knowing this was far from over Y/N slowly pushed Clark back and got him cleaned up, before ordering the man to go to Y/Ns room at the tower where they would continue. Clark seemed hesitant but when Y/N took of his sweaty tank top and threw it at the man, the kryptonian was gone with a speed that would make the flash jealous. Y/N chuckled to himself as he cleaned up their mess, digging up some of his old laundry and tucking it under his arm before he left for his room, going down some less used hallways so no one would see him with his raging hard erection. He couldn’t wait to pick Clark apart, he thought with a smirk.

#male reader #dc #justice league #clark kent #dc x male reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc headcanon #young justice headcanon #justice league imagine #justice league x reader #justice league x male reader #clark kent x male reader #clark kent x reader #clark kent imagine #clark kent headcanon #superman x male reader #superman x reader #superman imagine #superman headcanon

[vickyvicarious]

God preserve my sanity, for to this I am reduced. Safety and the assurance of safety are things of the past. Whilst I live on here there is but one thing to hope for, that I may not go mad, if, indeed, I be not mad already. If I be sane, then surely it is maddening to think that of all the foul things that lurk in this hateful place the Count is the least dreadful to me; that to him alone I can look for safety, even though this be only whilst I can serve his purpose. Great God! merciful God! Let me be calm, for out of that way lies madness indeed.

Now Jonathan doubting his sanity is starting to really kick in. And the twistiness of this passage is really compelling to me. Like, let's break it down.

He first says that safety and "the assurance of safety" aren't possible anymore. Not just literal safety but also the promise/feeling of it at all. I think this in direct response to the very things that made him feel safe last night (untouched dusty room, thought of ladies in the past) being turned against him almost immediately (they didn't leave footprints, ladies attacked him). The last time Jonathan had a moment of peace looking at the scenery, he saw Dracula moving down the wall lizard fashion. There is no safety here, none - not even in his own mind.

That brings us to the next line. All Jonathan can hope for anymore is that he won't go mad, if he isn't mad already. He has no real hope for escape or rescue. That doesn't mean he will stop trying, but he doesn't see any way out, doesn't know what he can possibly do to protect himself from supernatural threats like this. The only refuge is in his sanity, in his knowledge of what is going on. He wants to doubt it regardless, because everything that is happening is so far outside the realm of what he has ever known or believed to be possible. This is where his diary is so so useful as a record of the truth.

"If I be sane, then surely it is maddening..." THIS LINE. Jonathan has been forced to confront the fact that the Count, his captor, may be the least immediate danger here. Up till now he has been playing a survival game against Dracula alone, but now that he knows about the vampire ladies - and now that Dracula has protected him from them - Jonathan's perspective of their dynamic has been irrevocably shifted. It's not just that he has to keep Dracula happy long enough to get away from him safely. He needs to ensure that Dracula is still invested enough to protect him from these other dangers. And at the same time, the abilities/desires of both the ladies and by extension Dracula himself have been expanded and made more horrible and harder to counter. The situation is distinctly worse than yesterday. And the thought of having to rely on Dracula specifically is maddening, sickening to even think about.

It drives Jonathan into a panic. He cries to god twice, unable to put to paper all his specific thoughts or fears... maybe not able to solidify them in his own mind, even. That's how much he hates and fears Dracula, that the thought of him being any source of safety is so repugnant.

But he needs to calm down. It's his only chance. Maybe not to escape, but to maintain his sanity. He has to stay calm. He has to rely on proof and evidence, to keep gathering it as best he can while adjusting his strategy to be wary of these new dangers. He has to calm down, to order his thoughts, to be logical. Suppress his emotions. If he lets himself dwell, then he is utterly lost - sanity and all.

Jonathan is in such a terrible place today. It's so compelling and so awful - especially how he feels about Dracula's new role as Protector.

The Count's mysterious warning frightened me at the time; it frightens me more now when I think of it, for in future he has a fearful hold upon me. I shall fear to doubt what he may say!

Once again, Jonathan's thoughts are so heartwrenching here. He was frightened by the warning but chose to disregard it because he was more afraid of Dracula's presence in his rooms. Now, though, he knows the warning carried actual weight, and a heavy one at that. Jonathan is fully aware of just how much Dracula is trying to control and influence him. He knows that Dracula's warning/rescue serve just as much to assert ownership and control over him as they did to save him, if not more. And yet, to an extent it worked anyway. Jonathan knows that his own terror might work to keep him under Dracula's influence in the future. He's going to have a harder time thinking critically about the Count's words or ever going against them again, which will probably make it that much harder to try and escape or even gather information. He knows that he's going to be more likely to play into Dracula's hands, but he doesn't know if he will be able to help it.

And that, too, scares him to death.

If it be that I had not dreamt, the Count must have carried me here. I tried to satisfy myself on the subject, but could not arrive at any unquestionable result. To be sure, there were certain small evidences, such as that my clothes were folded and laid by in a manner which was not my habit. My watch was still unwound, and I am rigorously accustomed to wind it the last thing before going to bed, and many such details. But these things are no proof, for they may have been evidences that my mind was not as usual, and, from some cause or another, I had certainly been much upset. I must watch for proof.

Finally, we finish off the entry today with more thoughts on both of these issues. We come back again to Jonathan trying so hard to gather proof - but what happened last night has shaken him so much that all the things he would normally consider proof aren't good enough. Because they all rely on what Jonathan would normally do, and he's beginning to be afraid that he alone isn't enough. He needs an external proof.

He wants it, desperately. In some ways, maybe even the inability to trust his own mind would be more comforting than the thought that it all really happened. The women waiting to drink his blood. The Count, too? The unbelievably invasive experience of Dracula undressing Jonathan and putting him to bed, even neatly folding his clothes, all that being a footnote here is just awful in so many ways. Jonathan is trying to avoid dwelling on it at all because it would make him panic and he can't afford that if he wants to stay sane. Jonathan knows even if it did happen it's the least of his worries, and the thought of that being the case is all the more frightening.

As I look round this room, although it has been to me so full of fear, it is now a sort of sanctuary, for nothing can be more dreadful than those awful women, who were—who are—waiting to suck my blood.

And the very last line... Once again you have to bear in mind exactly how much Jonathan hates this place, for the impact of the line to really hit. Exactly how unsafe he has felt here lately. This room is "full of fear" to him. Because of Dracula.

But at least Dracula has had more control than those awful women. So this room becomes a sort of sanctuary, in the most twisted of ways, in the most horrible feeling possible for a 'sanctuary' to have, because of Dracula. Because at least Dracula has not paralyzed Jonathan and made him feel like he wants that deadly 'kiss'... at least Dracula hasn't truly tried to suck his blood.

Yet.

#dracula daily #jonathan harker #count dracula #JONATHAN HANG IN THERE #dracula meta #my meta

[hrts4wonu]

★ 10:36 PM % . . 💭

ep 1 : 'that hard work' | ep 2 : 'enemy at first' | ep 3 : 'joshua's present'

lee jihoon was definitely your biggest rival.

when you say 'biggest', you meant it. biggest rival both in real life and in his soundproof studio.

at first, you thought he was annoying; he kept ignoring you all the time to spite you, and that's how hatred and annoyance grew inside of you the more you spent time with him.

what's worse is that, well, the company you're working with kind of made you collab with him in order to earn some more money since he is kind of more popular and famous than you; one, because he's talented; two, because he's attractive; lastly, because he's a part of one of the most famous boy groups, seventeen.

but, still, his maddening appearance and aura does not change your heart about his well-built body and his dirty personality under that small, lazy smile of his that he always had on display for people turning to look at him.

-

"jihoon.." you moan softly as he looks up at you; his tongue quickly laps over your folds and his speed rapidly increases.

your body starts trembling and you can't help but hold onto his hair while he whispers sweet nothings; "look at you, clenching on nothing." he teased and you slapped his face.

"you're that desperate aren't you?" you nod embarrassingly and look away, starting to grind on his fingers as you crave more motion from him "wan' this cock, baby?" fuck, that nickname. you swore you could just fucking cum from his voice.

you nod once again and he hits your thigh, "use your damn words, will you? annoying fucking slut. i'll use you until you can't breathe shit no more." you hiss at the contact and flinch a bit.

"m-mmn!" you whimper, body now trembling as he starts to rub your clit with his fingers' soft thumb.

he scrunched his face in disappointment, not knowing what to say; well, in fact, he did know what to say. he just wants you to stop being a bratty little slut and obey him for once. "can't fucking obey me for once, brat? i'll make you do shit for me then." he says, "you're so fucking slutty; a fucking whore, for me? who would've known?" he adds.

"just imagine,"

"your pink, wet pussy on a billboard? your so called 'biggest' rival fucking this tight pussy o' yours. do you know what your manager would say about that, huh? tell me." he teased even more, his pace quickening even more when he sees your reaction.

"p-please.." you stutter. "please what? come on, speak up, brat. i'm tired of doing all the talking for you" his eyes darken with lust as he continues to speak.

"f..fuck me with your cock, jihoonie. please." you add; "i promise i'll be a very, very, very, very, good girl. a really, really good girl for you.." you say as the tears in your eyes start dripping down your cheeks.

"there it is." he says with a smirk. "that's just what i wanted to hear."

he stands up and gently picks you up, bending you over on his desk where his, so you call 'producer slash manager slash singer-songwriter' items, are placed on.

jihoon quickly lines his cock with your hole and before you knew it, he was already thrusting inside of you.

"m-mmn, jihoonie..!" you moan loudly, feeling his dick twitch inside of you as you clench him intensely. "holy shit, call me that again sweetheart. i could cum just from your clenching." he smirked and you felt that wicked look on his face right now.

"j-jihoonie.." you oblige, your legs starting to tremble as he hits that spot inside of you quickly which made your wet lips hold onto his large cock more.

he grunts loudly, thrusting inside of you even more.

it didn't take that long until you both reach your climax and he plants his seed inside you. "a-ah..!" you whimpered loudly.

"fuck, ruby," he breathes, leaning over to your ear to whisper something. "y'like this, don't you? getting dicked down by your rival, hm? is that what you're into?" he teased.

you nod, whining from the need of his touch. he stills you by holding your waist, stopping you from grinding against him as he pulls out of you. "i thought you hated me--"

"hated you?" you question, a little bit thrown away from the sudden statement he said. "yeah," he replied. "i mean, you never seemed to like me. that's why i ignored you all the time." jihoon adds. "fuck, hoonie, baby.. i'm sorry, i just didn't know how to express myself towards you."

"what's that s'posed to mean?" you turn around and he carries you on top of his desk, hands resting on your warm thighs. "well, you're really attractive, and i was too shy to say something else and i felt like it'd be weird if i just confessed out of nowhere." you admit, frowning.

he smirks and the hand that was resting on your left thigh ghosts you to cup your cheeks. "darling," he starts.

"you're fine. it's okay." jihoon tucks your hair behind your ear and places a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose, making you a bit flustered from the action.

he leaves another kiss but this time, it was on the back of your palm.

"now, come on, let me make you feel even better, yeah?" he offers to which you nod to; it wasn't long enough until he held onto your waist once again and carries you to the bed, landing on your back. he leans in to kiss your lips seductively, slipping his tongue in.

you hum in response, wrapping your thighs around his waist. "one more round won't hurt, right, ruby?"

"mhm." you say as another soft kiss lands on your ear.

#seventeen #smut #svt #svt x reader #woozi #woozi x reader #seventeen woozi #svt woozi #lee jihoon #jihoon x reader #jihoon smut #jihoon svt #seventeen hard hours #seventeen hard thoughts #svt smut #svt fanfic #woozi smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #seventeen x woozi #seventeen scenarios

[menacing-menace-rat]

Platonic yandere justice league part 2

Part 1 Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman.

Warnings: Drowning? General yandere themes.

Auqaman

You were not a strong swimmer. Not at all.

Still you wanted to swim in the ocean just once.

It didn't go well. Quickly you were swept into the sea.

The next thing you remember was a soaking wet man who looked annoyed leaning over you and your lungs gasping for air.

That's how it all started.

He couldn't belive the arrogance of humanity at times.

"You can't ever manage a doggy paddle and you go out during hide tide at night.... fucking humans."

He'd fix up some shack on an isolated part of the beach somewhere and chain you in it.

He wouldn't admit he felt some kind of intense pull to you. It wasn't sexual by any means though.

It was vaguely paternal but mostly it was amusement.

Your pathetic attempts to escape only added to his fun.

He's much more cold then any of the other Justice League members.

Cruelty doesn't really describe it.

He's not mean it's almost like apathy.

He'd bring you cooked fish and seaweed for food.

Don't like fish? Too bad should have thought about that before you almost got yours killed.

Over time his paternal side takes over his sick amusement of you.

He wanted to take you back with his to Atlantis so he started his dreaded swimming lessons.

For him swimming was as natural as breathing so he wasn't the best teacher.

Day after day he'd drag you into the ocean with him.

You nearly drowned about half a dozen times only to be ripped from the crashing waves by your captor over and over

You couldn't begin to count the amount of times his hook snagged you.

His apologies left much to be desired.

Finally you learned.

It wasn't a day later he took you to his kingdom.

Miles under water you'd have no hope of escaping him there and he knew that.

He'd make you part of his court to give you responsibilities.

Under the watchful eye of his subjects he can finally relax a bit though.

You see him laugh and joke.

You watch him with his family, his wife and son, and he seems so normal so kind.

Even with you he is kinder now.

You life under the sea would be pretty comfortable.

This man is completely unrecognizable from the one on the beach.

If you wanted to leave though like Superman the only way was to be trusted to go back on land.

You'd have to play the waiting game. Potentially for much longer then with Superman.

By that point you may not even see the point in leave him.

Green Lantern (John Stewart)

You were a low level criminal.

Nothing too bad, a small hist here, a bit of fraud there.

There were far worse criminals but something about made John feel like he could... save you?

Pretty soon everything you tried to do he was right there.

The annoying green wall popping between you and whatever target you had.

He was relentless in his pursuit to keep you on the straight and narrow.

It was maddening.

A part of him enjoyed how upset it made you.

He may never kidnap you.

He knows you are too stubborn to leave the city.

If you did leave he'd just bring you back.

Being carried away by a large green catchers mit became your normal.

He'd purposely sought out all your 'little criminal friends' and had them locked up.

His experience as a solider gave him the patience to wait for you day and night to try something.

The solider in him was also responsible for his uncanny ability to shout you down and make sure you know how badly you messed up.

Despite all of this he won't turn you in to the authorities.

But oh does he make you think he's going to.

The fear that fills your heart everytime those green bars fall in front of your face.

Every time he swears this is the last straw and yet he always go right over the police station.

After months of this you would big him to drop you off at the station.

Finally you relent. Your crime sprees become far and few in between.

Unfortunately this leaves John with almost an empty feeling

He's so glad you have turned your life around but he misses his favorite ne'er do well.

You'd get a normal job at a restaurant of some kind

He started showing up at your work. He's always such a hard ass.

He'd never admit he misses you so he makes up some excuses like "keeping an eye on you." Or "an accomplice of yours just go out. I'm making sure you are keeping your nose clean."

Every morning he'd come in and order the same egg sandwich and black coffee.

Every night it was a slice of apple pie and milk.

Eventually you'd try to move cities and even that wouldn't only give you temporary relief.

He'd feel forced to keep you in his city. He couldn't let you go anywhere else and get up to your old shenanigans.

The thought of you getting hurt or hauled in by a fellow hero made his blood boil.

His obsession would come to a peak when he framed you for a crime just to keep you near him.

He'd convince the judge you made a mistake and that he'd personally make sure you stay out of trouble.

His self assured look of focus in the court is enough to make you want to scream.

That would be you life from then on.

He'd always be one misdeed away.

Ready to set you straight at any moment.

And now he wasn't above using the law to keep you near him.

The last part coming very soon. Thanks for your patience!

Honestly I had never put much through into most of the justice league as yanderes. Like Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman sure of course I can see them as yanderes but never the others but frankly the more I think about it the more potential they all seem to have as really interesting and scary yanderes to deal with.

#dc comics #platonic yandere #justice league #aquaman #green lantern